MY JOY HAD DIED

Last summer, my joy was born to me.

I embraced it with both my arms.

How glad I was, gladdest under the Sun.

And now I held it before them to see.

My heart gladdened as my joy I shared,

With my family,friends, and foes even,

How glad I was, gladdest I could ever be,

But no look at my joy had they spared.

Every day, for several Suns that went down,

I wondered if my joy would meet another,

How wrong I was, more wrong than any,

My joy was visited by no soul in town.

It died soon, and then sorrow was born,

And this time, I chose to keep it within,

How hard it was, hardest I had ever done,

Like a dagger in the heart I had worn.

Memory of joy had come to me soon,

Like an autumn leaf refused to be raked,

How anguished it was, it closed its lips

And  was heard no more in the moon.

She Danced Upon the Shore

She danced upon the shore,

What need had she to care?

The wind and water did roar,

And caressed her silken hair.

I smiled at her from afar,

Waiting she would turn to me.

Child I was, like we all are,

As artless as one could be.

She seemed as lovely as spring,

And I couldn't stay apart,

With joy more than I could bring,

I gave her all my heart.

I was told by her that love

Was hardly worth thinking of,

That every kiss and the early bliss,

Died with each broken promise.

That she would rather walk alone

Than give her heart outright,

For love as she had known,

Was a brief, hazy delight.

In a little while, all I had won,

Had been savagely undone.

Now to me, truth did seem

A lie I had chosen to dream.

 

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Strange tales of love I've known,
From one friend too many;
And there is one, of my own,
That you may choose to see.

It was on a fading Friday
That we shared a glance
I had a smile, she was grey;
I dared not to advance.

To her I did not stride,
But she was not the same.
I was looking for a place to hide
When I was asked my name.

Upon her, I didn't fix my eye,
I was shy to say the least;
My eyes met the Sun ,low in the sky
With my back facing the east.

She seemed to have lost her way,
And I asked where she was headed.
Not anywhere close, but far away,
From no shelter had she fled.

She needed no help from me,
I learnt to my surprise.
Instead followed me to the lea,
To wait for the Sun to rise.

'The Sun hasn't gone down yet
And till the rise you wish to wait?'
It was laughable and I did fret
But she moved with a swifter gait.

I did follow her to unbeknownst land,
She didn't look, but took my hand,
I recount myriad faces looking at me.
As if I was the only one to be.

It wasn't a dream, the tour
Which ended with the light of the day,
I was far from home I'm sure
And she was far, far away.

Her allure haunts me as I write,
Maybe she is here, to my right.
It's not her absence that I grieve,
It's the presence I refuse to believe.