A Poet of a Thousand Words
A poet of a thousand words
The pen garnished by the flame
Like a sea no desire knows
And love becomes the same
As poet to my love for thee
I confess between the lace
Of time and every sorrow made
I find my dream just as agonized
As seas of fate where time
And words exquisite as your faith
And face can make no memory
Like a rose aspires in both sunlight’s rise
And wake upon a cross of lucid belief
Where love and lace find no shame
Surreal beneath beauty’s chains
A Poet of a thousand words
But if my love I think that time
Can bring me to all destiny
Time as statuesque as truth
Shall bring me again to you
For there my love the shadows know
Every shadow I have yet to show
In shades of sorrow and distant hope
Where words become each touch I yearn
I find no sorrow made in rhyme
A blush of time and poet’s blood
For there is sorrow’s exquisite sea
It regrets not nor ever again can be
But like a renaissance of vanished love
No ghost can haunt me now enough
Nor thrive expired beneath the sun
Each moment when the day is done
As poet to my love for thee
Every time I die
A thousand words are brought to life
With words I love and poets fire
Yet ambition conquers not desire
Yet still there lays between the lace
Exquisite words of love to give
Shall I die within desires touch?
Like the pen desires in all tranquility
A kiss clandestine as the iris of your heart
Or mine which waits both in sorrow and in time
For I find in dreams of thee no like
Though Helen once gave beauty fame
As poet to my love for thee
I boast a vision so serene
Which could woo all poet’s hearts
No urn of passion gently carved
Nor horizon gracefully hesitates
Upon thy lips and brow
For now I see with gothic eyes
Thy shape as chased by candlelight
The movement makes no travesty
Where death waits bereft of thee
And beauty conquers all that is not free
If my love between the lace
Of time and poet’s pen
I find that love is yet again
For like a poet needs sweet beauty’s touch
Until beyond all desire
Sometimes my love a poet makes
The tear within the coffin of the past
From creeping with tormentous heart
Athirst aghast to never see
Such visions I have dreamed of thee
The dusk when waning melts so free
And nature blushes on thy cheeks
But there I find restrained with wings
The love a thousand words can bring
A Poet of a thousand words
And words as such no pen may write
Nor time may rust so mad expire’d
In breath, no earthly candor falls so grave
But like a tablet born of truth
it brings us to eternal youth
But death and time eternal thrall
Upon the stone that love has made
If my love a face can make
One vesper to blush or haunt my tears
Then I have seen where dreams are made
And poets made mad the same
A poet of a thousand words
Yet no words can boast of beauty’s face
Nor silhouette eyes that give birth to fate
I thought that raven shadows made thee fair
With daisies crowning in thy hair
The very fragrance heaven knows
Like a naiad in the snow
Serene this pale nosforatu of love
I suffer like midnight meeting dusk
Upon the rose that silhouettes
Every touch of rain and tears
to stand atop towers of oblivion
Thrice wretched this mortal saint
A poet of a thousand words
If my love a tragedy
Nevermore undying in belief
In loneliness as gothic as can be
I thus in faith aspire
Yet ambition conquers not desire
As poet of a thousand words
Ife thus I hope like sorrow yields
Both in the shadow and the light
As smooth as lavender and lace
No pen nor monument might so trace
Both the beauty and the face
Engraved in time’s own memory
As Poet of a thousand words
There lays between the lines of time
Both words and rhyme
Like romance desire makes
If only thus sometimes to take
The autumn when the sunlight’s true
The season when thus rendezvoused
Upon the sonnets of your face
Whispering thus what beauty makes
What beauty makes and I partake
With time and ash I cannot touch
More perfect then for God has made it such
Unique blossoming in paradise
The paradise of all that I can dream
Though dreams and romance often make
Every sorrow man has known
Yet I a poet of a thousand words
Burst suddenly like a comet in the heart
To wake and rise each brilliant beat
And know perfect beauty has its enigma
Desire, thought, and truth
Ife I garnish every word deemed so infinite
Then I find it bland that fate can cry
Or that fate itself should die
When cast upon the shadows of thy face
For if thralled in darkness deep
As dark as sorrow can so be
The pen becomes the comet of the heart
And desire keeps all paradise asleep
In mystery but not in truth
A Poet of a thousand words
The flame cooled by the sea
Of time and every sorrow made
Yet exquisite faith where time grows
And dies upon the palest rose
Like a metaphor after life
When death itself has died
As poet to my love for thee
With words I touch your face
A lip, a shade, a palest kiss,
A blush of time and I have wished
As poet of a thousand words
To sail beyond a thousand leagues
And leagues that find themselves no end
For there beyond desire’s sea
There lays between the lace
Exquisite words of love to give
To sooth this pale nosforatu of romance
When ambition conquers not desire
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