Sunday, May 27th, 2007
There is a word we are much loathe to use
(All while awhoring in secret we go),
Which word when spoken has pow’r to effuse
Suggestions that smite right through the ego.
But call me wretched, for this single word
So aptly my ways and worship depicts,
That humbled and down and duly deterred
I come now to hear of facts that convict.
“Unfaithful” that word, which taints ev’ry thought;
The sum of my parts: a liar and fake.
But though this be true, still that which was wrought
On one Roman cross, this word will unmake.
To man without Christ, but one fate befalls.
Though one love confess, a thousand times false.
Tags: Autobiography, Poetry
Posted in Poetry | Comments Off
Sunday, May 21st, 2006
α
O write me a verse for the amorous one,
Who would give his all, a love to pursue.
Such fervour is oft brief, swiftly undone,
And we question: can love ever be true?
Of grandiose gestures we are most fond
We plan them through the wee hours of the night
Hoping to fashion some passionate bond;
In her heart of hearts, ‘I’ her new delight.
But blind are we, love’s nature to perceive
In our quest the fair maiden’s heart to smite
For love is both to give and to receive
A devotion that to passion gives sight.
Love is not love that gives the heart away;
It will share it – more and more, day by day.
Wednesday 31st May, 2006, Cambridge
Tags: Autobiography, Beauty, Poetry
Posted in Poetry | Comments Off
