An Epitaph

Deep in the earth, beneath unknowing skies,
I rest at last, far past the centuries.
The visitors have long bid their good-byes;
no maidens come to lay their laurel wreaths.

Though on a summer stroll across the hills
a courting couple oft pay their respects:
and wishing well with stolen daffodils
invite a blessing as they introspect.

"For love, for truth, for art," engraves the stone:
beyond the fateful words no history;
and all the joys and sorrows that I'd known
are silent to the traveller, wondering.

But from immortal eulogy begins
a second life, reborn to brilliance.

Sonnet CCCLXV

I am - too happy on this modest day.
The oxygen owns no unearthly charm;
but as the sun embalms the lucid way,
my wonder greets the breeze upon my arm.

Bouquets of unrequited smiles prance;
their pirouettes spin aimless on the grass.
Eternities resound their empty dance
as pliant leaves sift through the hourglass.

I cannot forecast all the grievances
that each covert Tomorrow seems to know.
I cannot cause the Heavens to descend
or pause Fortuna's wheel forever, though:

As I recall the morsels of this hour,
no mournful day shall ever wield its power.

Sonnet CCCLXIV

Alone, amongst the waves, beneath the sun -
I fear I'll drown; I've waded out too far.
The seabirds cackle in a frenzied bunch,
detecting noontime spoils from afar.
So far from land, so far from everyone,
I cannot say why I feel merrier:
my cheeks exude a strange vermillion,
my eyes ablaze with some unearthly star.

Perhaps I do not need an audience:
if I should whisper some aquatic rhyme,
the simple joy of it is bountiful -
if one should pause to note its loveliness,
then it is Art; if one should call it crime,
then I am mad as any starving gull.

Sonnet CCCLXIII

Unwary laughter stirs the languid air:
The weary robins interlace their yawns
Unbidden breezes charm our tickled arms,
meandering toward the heaven's stair.

The shadows of the trees are barely there;
the limpid flowers rest their lurid shawls -
In viscous resignation, stilled and calm,
Warm oxygen absorbs our every care.

As Artemis is dying all the clouds,
Apollo closes up his pearly gate.
The final sun-kissed photons scintillate
as conversation takes its final bow:
these summer hours sedately dissipate,
and Mother Nature packs away her day.

Sonnet CCCLXII

A picnic we could have on ruby Mars,
upon a single orb of crimsonness –
surrounded by the solvent swaddling us,
delighted by the swarms of smiling stars?


If universes sang in students’ jars –
perhaps, perhaps! If dreams and fables lived
in every Erlenmeyer flask and dish,
how many poets would be turned to Bards?


Some silver snow bewitches ether skies
in Lotus Lands designed for gleaming eyes!
A foreign galaxy must beckon tales,
beyond the formulae and recipes –
it must transcend the ordinary Jail!


But is it only hapless chemistry?

Sonnet CCCLXI

Interrogate the robins – ask them why –
some sudden sunshine peeks between the leaves.
Familiar laughter claims the startled ear
and torpid languor confiscates the eyes –


We spent such carefree days beneath the skies
and when the rain had interspersed between,
we hid like naughty children, impishly
and laughed and laughed and laughed away the sky –


Relinquish you –
                            beyond my feeble grasp,
released beyond my grandiose love at last,
such scenes we’ll see again our separate ways?
Rekindled in my solitary view
at all familiar turns I think of you –
do you remember me at all today?

Sonnet CCCLX

But in my sad seclusion, saw the sky;
some strange, Immortal sunlight beckoned me:
a fragile wonder touched my everything –
I felt a pensive calm, not knowing why.


And in that humble instant, dropped my pride;
without my strength and inner harmony,
searched – desperate for a Higher sympathy.


But wondered at my strange internal lies –
uncertain of the warmth and bliss I felt.
For did I, in my lonesome emptiness,
contrive to forge imagined happiness –


or did my cold self-adequacy melt –
thus drawing me toward the kind Above,
which waited for the day I needed
                                                        – Love?

Sonnet CCCLIX

Disintegrating into rippling shards:
the crystal earth, at once, is liquefied.
A subtle smile of sunshine at my side,
an unexpected twinkling from afar –
and thus, my heart, as well, is eased apart.


And all the tantrums and those icy eyes
seem silly…all these heartless thoughts, a lie?
Dissolved, at once, beneath the burning stars.


Some unknown bliss, some unrequited plant
shoots, surging, unpredicted, from the core –
and could I wish it stay here evermore?


The scent of joy unfolds beyond its hand –
and would these seconds last for centuries,
such simple days could paint eternities.

Sonnet CCCLVIII

A pair of crows stood, foolish, chatting!
Resplendent in the winter sun.
Was gossip ever idler, waiting?
Impending doom a distant drum!


And now my car comes crashing, wildly!
The earthworms tremble under, blindly…
The semi-frozen earth grows pale!
Vibrations thunder in the air!


But – ah! They flee too quickly – ninjas!
Oh, stealthy as the flashing winds…
Their flight igniting oxygen,
their wings opposing sluggish minutes!


But what a tale to tell at lunch!
"We only nearly dodged that one!"

Sonnet CCCLVII

The autumn’s infantry – how mighty!
Virile the plumes of gold arise –
exulted by each twig and berry.
The jealous, torpid summer dies!
No greater adversary vanquished,
no stronger rival fought and finished!


But how could pale and waxy sands,
and softest sunlights, light and wan –
compare! Our wispy, pallid present –
with haughty triumph? How we’ve aged,
ah, sea of frozen crystal days…
preserved, canopic fossil – aimless –


though in those sure and martial times
we stood incomparable, sublime!

Sonnet CCCLVI

At last I breathe again, at last I live:
perhaps my loneliness was only relative.
I once desired love – your company –
but I shall fill these hours easily.
From time-worn, weathered eyes erasing you,
replacing such projected joys with truth,
I live once more in grounded, present time
unbound of empty fantasy and rhyme.


I roam the changing earth, but pondering
as drifting, migrant snow joins, flight by flight –
and neither wind nor I know anything
of where we go from here and when or why –


but all we know is that we still exist,
if still unseen – at least by loyal sunshine kissed.

Sonnet CCCLV

What strange machines! I stand in dumbstruck awe.
They dig so monstrously, with scrawny claws;
petite – but mighty, steely, debonair.
Grey, prickly feathers splice the pungent air
and scores of them bob stably in the sea,
a half-assembled army, oddly free.


In syncopated rhythms, side by side,
now trading spots for newer soil to try,
then scurrying, returning now, for more –
acknowledging a neighbour’s small domain
then stealing it – and there erupts a war!


Unmoved, the others plod along their way,
but hesitant, I stay awhile myself,
escaping my routine for theirs, for them.

Sonnet CCCLIV

My geese – my ever-faithful geese – have left!
I watched the emptied autumn sky, bereft,
and watched them steal away to tropic lands…
oh how’ll they’ll love those toasty, sun-baked sands!


I cursed their infidelity that day
and bent upon my lonesome, grumpy way –
I’d find some other loyal friend to love!


But everyday I’d check the skies above
and find them vacant as my mournful heart.


Then suddenly – in shy, reluctant March
they squawked once more upon the melting moors!


And I – my injured self! – ignored their lure
(with great contempt) – and sauntered, haughty, off –
remarking how we’ve changed – and how they’ve not!

Sonnet CCCLIII

Epiphany? My love is shorn to shreds!
A guileless love beguiled by devious ends…
Dark, bitter grief ignites my inner core –
I cannot love this monster anymore!


And yet – I tremble at each docile smile!
I loved the clever traitor all the while.
I now regret that fatal day, when first –
a charming word deceived my artless thirst.


And yes, I still feel dearly for the fiend;
a foolish heart does not know want from need.


Ignore the ingrate! Flee the treachery!
But how we still dream fondly, stubbornly;
demanding vengeance for our suffering,
yet far too weak to do the injuring.

Sonnet CCCLII

But how those crystal eyes stared back at me!
Grand ecstasies sparked through my soul and mind;
disarming and distracting harmonies
obscured my scrutiny and made me blind.


I waited, waited - how I darkly pined!
Some desperate, thrilling, growing hopefulness
turned ravenous at every sound and sight –
then soon fell, plummeting to hopelessness.


And I remember - stubbornly - with bliss -
at how each word and stolen brush and glance
drew joyously, exultant like a kiss,
upon my steely thoughts…as if to dance.


But not today – there still remains a space -
where cruel, blue plastic mocks your worthy place.