[A rose by any name smells sweet], composed on 23 November, 2011

A rose by any name smells sweet,

What, then, is a daffodil

[I wandered slowly as a horse], composed on 23 November, 2011

I wandered slowly as a horse.

A silly image, but, of course,

A perfect one for one who wants

To be a nature poet.

“My Lady’s Eyes,” a sorry little verse composed on 16 November, 2011, in the wee hours of the morning, in a fit of madness, and much against the grain.

My lady’s eyes are emerald green,

Above a cheerful button nose.

Her lips are full and whispering,

A ghostly touch upon my face.

Her chin, defined, and regal neck

Do so incite me, I suspect,

To act in such a manner as

To make myself ridiculous,

And we have yet to reach the best.

Blazon’s over-romantic detail,

Cannot capture her slightest breath,

But still I try, and try again

In order to give passion rest.

Tho’ here I end my ill-fashioned song,

I hope she will know that I am:

Loving in truth, and fain my love to show.

“Cavalcade,” composed on 22 November, 2011.

Upon an open, peaceful plain

With new green life abounding round,

The red man lives a life most sane

In tune with nature’s verdant sound.

His tent is tall, a refuge here,

From all the winter’s worldly woes,

And here the noble elk and deer

Are welcome, free from whitened foes.

All nature sings in joyous song,

In harmony with all its parts.

The days—eternal—the seasons—long

Do fill them all and move their hearts.

But sudden ruckus, fearful score,

Cries out, “release the drums of war!”

Treacherous Muse, composed on 16 November, 2011 under unmentionable circumstances of late night school and things of that sort.

 

Wand’ring alone, I had none by my side.

Suff’ring apart, I somehow caught your eye.

Living in fear, I could not long abide;

Now in your arms I heave a gentle sigh.

In my ear you whisper, and tell me truth,

But I hear it not, for I am uncouth—

A fool.  The muse grows distant, far from me,

For I have left her there, alone, for thee.

"Mon semblable,—mon frère!", composed on 23 November, 2011

Walking through darkness with a ghost upon my lips,

Living in shadow, never moving towards the light,

Wond’ring if mercy can truly temper justice,

Hoping that happy chance will not turn her dark wheel

Away from me.

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But words

                        Words words words!

Words can never harm

Can they?

A ring once broken, is fashioned round again

But is it truly whole?

                                 Or is it but a vision of sorrow?

One ring to bind in darkness

Here in the darkness, you wait with me

Here in the shadow, you think that you’re free

You think you understand yourself

And me

And the world of nature which ‘compasses you about.

But, son of man, you see only shadows on the wall.

Broken images, created in darkness

And, seeing in darkness, you catch my eye.

You do not see what I see, for I see you

Small and shallow

Beaten and broken

Bloodshot and fallow

And yet

And yet you are so sure of yourself

As Ahab in his boat

(the ship of state)

A small man in danger

(destruction is nature)

With never a real hope

Amidst a broken line.

Continue on your way then,

My brother and friend.

Enjoy your walk in darkness.

I’d prefer not to.

Starlight, composed on 22 November, 2011

I lay beneath an open cloudless sky,

Fixing my eyes upon the depths of space.
The melancholy wind, with wav'ring sigh,
Fills me with emptiness, shows me my place.
This place is cold, dark, weary, weak, and all
My thoughts are jammed together, creating
A caucaphony of chaotic sound.
Sound which, amplified, does sting in my ears.

I neither think, nor dare to hope, that soon
I shall return to the love of my heart.
For I am far too far from my bright moon;
though I think of her, we remain apart.
But for this time I dream within my rest,
Of Sunshine warm, and caked upon my breast.

The Dominance of Nature, composed 14 November, 2011.

I stand within a forest, dark and wild,

Filled to the brim with every living thing.

And looking on their home so meak and mild,

I do, within, assert that I am king.

King of the dark earth, and of the bright sky

Lord.  For, now, I have made the earth my throne,

And the clouds are my crown as with Sanai.

I am man, the ruler of all, alone.

The earth doth tremble at my fearsome gaze,

And flowers bend deep before my vicious breath,

The very sky darkens and forms a haze,

Lest I should turn my baleful ire towards death.

And then in th’ midst of my triumphant laugh

The tornado comes, and rips me in half.