If I Could Write…

If I could write a sonnet-song of verses oh so fair
That wound around, and in and out, like birds through air,
And mesmerize with melodies of child-like speech,
When every sound is perfect sound in round lips reach;
If then in echo Echo’s soul was your soul, too,
And you and I went echoing the whole night through,
Till our two mouths—a parted rose—did close back one,
With muse’s love a-murmuring, immersed in sun,
Then little sparks of lyric light would fill our eyes,
To hold us in its isle awhile of paradise,—
There on that shore, unshaken, we would stand and see
That birds of air, though very fair, are less than we.
For we’re the sonnet singers who sing our love in time
And light our lyric candles with the light of rhyme!

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The Sum

When walls swing in on either side
To press you there, between,
With virtue push them back in pride
Till they are no more seen.

When lightnings crack, and thunders roll,
And waves of rain wash down,
Swim with the strength that you’ve made whole
And laugh that you can’t drown.

When silent illness takes an aim
To quench your living mind,
Be unforgiving, take YOUR aim,
And let it failure find.

You’re stuck—within a hole—it’s true;
Your feet are clogged with mud,
But joy is all the life of you
And beats within your blood!

And blood and mind are intertwined,
And flesh and spirit sing,
“I am the man who is not blind,
And I will fight this thing!”

Oh, never pause, and never doubt,
And never cease in will,
But climb and climb to get on out
And you’ll be winning still!

The sun’s a-shine, it’s touched your brow,
All nature is a-hum;
You knew you were, we know it now—
Of manhood you’re the sum!

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Ideal You

If I could paint a beauty-hue to magnify the sky,
‘T would be the blue of very you that’s in your eye.
If I could paint a glorious sun a more glowing golden gold,
‘T would be your hair of yellow flame too untame to hold.
If I an apple sweet could paint of luscious reddest red,
For which love’s lips did crush the air, as though they fed,
‘T would be—Oh, need I say it now, since you must know?
You are the model final, the highest work and show!
The critic is but me, who writes his poems of praise
To magnify in music of melodious rays
His dream-beams seeking, sighting you ere he
Became in words the worshipper of life so free!
More free than beauty’s being, more than cloudless blue,
No sweep of painter’s brush can touch ideal you.

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Onward.

A father second, husband first,
And all around and in between
The independent man we’ve seen.

Onward go ye, unreversed,
Sure petal to the metal “Now”
To climb that future in your brow!

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New Life

New wife, new mother,
New life—none other!

I wish you gladness
Beyond all sadness,

And may each day see
A happy baby,

And love up-reaching
In learning, teaching,

As reason riots
In thinking diets!

For yours and your way
Widens life’s doorway!

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Atlantean Heights

May Phil/Amanda, uniting two in one,
En-gold with gladness, and with high-light cheers,
The daily trophies of triumphant years.
Fate’s waves do rise before them, but they rise, too,
To sail their freest, open best, and brave on through.
With mental wheels spinning, and keenest youth beside,
May vent’rous days be one long glorious ride
To seek Atlantis’ shores, yet be Atlantean heights,
Themselves the living proof their own dear love ignites.
And may they walk in peace in some afar fair place,
Or climb somewhere—a threesome—to some mountain’s peak
Where all below is shining like their son’s bare face
Which glorifies the beauty of the life they seek.

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Struck ( inspired by Brittney Fay Rivera)

Sunlight on your hair of gold
Marks you there: This fair behold.
Love of light that sparks your eyes
Tells aright: This fair is wise.
Light of lip and brow and cheek
Sunrise gives to all who seek.
Altogether all things fair
Sing the height of open air,
Wid’ning skies, freest space,
Matched by your triumphant face—
Face of beauty living right,
Guided by your selfish sight—
Selfish sight and selfish mind,
Oh what mine do we here find!
Mine of riches glowing gold,
Mined for action true and bold—
Bold to sit on boldest horse,
Galloping in joy the course
You have set with tight’ning rein,
Loosed again to strike, and gain!
How we marvel you can be
Here the sunshine we can see,
Of such confidence so rare
There is nothing half so fair
That for song’s sake, yea, for rhyme’s,
We are glad we’re in these times!
Though the world so dusky seems
Struck we are by your high beams.

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