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Taken From 'Grief in Brief'

'So shed a tear if you wish to
then move on
as one day
you will too be gone
as the next wind
like a gush comes along'

© lovedly (loved), 2014


'The Wild Wind of Antiquity'

The wind is come to sojourn once more
Delivering tidings from far away, yonder.
It expires its breath and wheezes veracity.

Eyes may not see but ears are alarmed
As the wind calls out its blustery voice
And those who listen will know it well.

Sonnet 13 to forbidden Love

Your beauty did not wane with fleeting cheer;
What bold adventure would I not accept
On your behalf, but for this truth: it’s clear,
Your love broods in bewilderment, and kept
From mine—all for the sake of being true.
So I concede; I know you cannot break
A solemn pledge that’s still upheld by you,
Not likely to be shattered for my sake;
But since I must depart, one final thought;
I pray you won’t forget these words I say,
With which I end a love that’s been for naught?
Then know: If you should think of me some day

The Conversation


Dews on wilted petals, ephemeral hopes which die
Wrap around frozen trees, as white, thorny briars;
In the miasmic air
In the moonlit square
A fountain, forgotten, does lament and cry
And dolefully expires.

Next to the dreadful, solitary park
A breeze blows forsaken, ominous and dark,
Consuming the night, and its prescient fires.

To Whom It May Concern


You may grieve on this darkest of days.
You may weep tears of demulcent dew
And ponder the wonder of God's cruelest ways
Though ne'er understand their reason or rhyme,
Nor unravel the ruse that he ruthlessly plays.

Alone in your anguish, your tempest and rain,
Far from the sunshine high summer once brought.
Forlorn in the torture of sadness and pain
Where lightness and brightness have now disappeared,
Bereft in the wilderness ~ alone once again.

A Morning Pandemonium

Tan-gray mottled, her tongue hangs out
long and dry; the female sniffs
around the golf course’s creosote bushes.

It’s pupping time. Coyotes
have their dens well within teeing
distance, not heeding golfer’s cries of “Fore.”

Yipidi yap grrr yip yap yipidi yap . . . .
My miniature dachshund and her sidekick,
a miniature pincher, tow me in their wake--

Attack mode. Let’s get at that coyote.
Yip yap yipidi yap . . . .
I pray those leashes will keep these little
fools secure--for their own sake.

Futile Sighs (Orfeo's Lament)

Words of love I whisper
into the shifting breeze, hoping
that my pleas may reach her;
but—I know, she hears me not.
Then, of what use is my entreaty,
of what value are my futile sighs?

If they were to touch the statue
of the armless Venus de Milo,
her marble body would most surely mend
and come alive to hold me to her breast.

For my tears alone, the worker
in the quarry should not need
a hammer to break up boulders,
for my words would crumble stone.


You, the fire, intent on burning it all
with the heat of a blue-white flame
aimed at my kindling heart

There is no comfort for me here
Where love was sought
I found wolves at the door

The Park



The Deluge

When clouds amass,
dense treetops sway,
who knows what lies
in store for us.

Still-distant lightning
zigzags through threatening
skies and faintly thunder rolls--
then, like a rush-hour train,
the storm roars upon us,
leaving hail the size of silver
dollars on roofs and streets.

A dog of uncertain breed
lies buried beneath icy sheets
soon covered by my neighbors
torn off porch roof.

And now--heavy rain--
Will our shelter keep us safe
from this biblical deluge?

Guests, of a Sort

I wake up to find
a few aches and pains
have followed me into the new day;
a stiff joint, an odd discomfort,
from origins unknown

I try to connect the unwanted guests
with, perhaps, foolish exertions
from the day before
that may have caused them

Still, I am grateful
for the parts of my body,
entities really, as I have come to know them,
that give me no trouble this day


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