Few are the times Love knocked at my door,
     but they've all escaped my memory;
No enchanting poems stirred in my core --
No grand tributes to Love's mystery

But when despair extinguishes hope's flame,
     what salient words drip from my pen;
It's then that my heart, wounded and lame,
     unveils its poetic acumen

Is this why misery commands free rein ---
     just to appease Fate's poetic lust?
The tyranny of anguish and pain
     gives hesitant verse that final ******

Try to visualize agony pent
     in the depths of a desolate heart;
Now sketch the face of that vile torment . . .
Soon the pain becomes a work of art

Too often deceitful hearts will lure
     trusting hearts, blinding them with false love;
Great is the anguish they must endure . . .
     but it's the poems that I'm thinking of!

Passion-filled verses mix and combine
     like the paints in a grand masterpiece
     when the shattered heart tries to confine
     rage and bitterness seeking release
    
And yet, Love that survives Fate's brutal shove ---
The fortress that refuses to fall ---
Those words that proclaim undying love
     become the grandest poems of all!

As twilight's deep shadows were falling,
A spirit voice whispered in my ear
A message that I found most enthralling,
Which I'll now repeat for all to hear:

"Love is a treasure we must cherish
Above all else, lest it soon be lost
Among baubles and gemstones most garish,
And fool's gold that was not worth the cost

Unlike diamonds, Love does not glisten,
Yet what radiance beams from tear-filled eyes
As desolate hearts eagerly listen
To Love's gentle whisperings and sighs

Love is a divine commodity ---
Inexplicable is its power,
As baffling as an ancient mystery,
Bringing joy to each waking hour

Cling tightly to this treasure called Love ---
Unequaled is the bliss that it brings,
For its value is rated well above
All the gaudy wealth of queens and kings

If bejeweled fingers fill your glove,
Cast aside these trifling, worthless themes;
Set your sights on the riches forged from Love . . .
You'll know wealth beyond your wildest dreams"

Knowing that Life rides a stormy sea
And cloudbursts oftentimes overwhelm,
I'll rig the sails and face what may be . . .
If Love is standing guard at the helm

Fearlessly I'll walk Life's thorny path
In the dark of night or sunless day;
I'll grapple with Fate's relentless wrath . . .
If Love 's blessed radiance guides my way

And when despair grabs hold of my hand,
Gallantly I'll cry my share of tears
While waiting for storm clouds to disband . . .
If Love's at my side to calm my fears

When all seems lost and hope goes astray,
And my dreams lie withering on the vine,
I'll endure and rise above the fray . . .
If Love's hand is clinging fast to mine

When my spirit flees this mortal frame
And is summoned toward the dark unknown,
I'll fare well enough with memory's flame    . . .
If Love lingers when all else has flown

A seed of Love that never found
The hallowed path to fertile ground,
The fruitless trees, the orchard bare ---
Bitter pain of unanswered prayer

A tired heart, trampled by Love's feet
Dolefully yields in utter defeat;
No eyes gaze upon its despair.
Although unseen, the pain is there

An outstretched hand that no one holds
As night's obsidian cloak unfolds;
Mournful sobs permeate the air---
O, what pain! And no one to share

Hours of blissful happiness
Followed by guile's fatal caress;
Wretched pain of Love's sad farewell . . .
O, what stories the past could tell!

Though such reminiscing brings regret,
Still, the heart whispers "Never forget,"
And so to Love's treachery we're resigned,
And journey on  . . .  with pain close behind

When a tree waves its green leafy hand,
Most don't notice, but I understand;
The swaying of a flower, the buzz of a bee . . .
That's how my garden beckons to me

The little blades of grass gently nod
As a worm pokes his head through the sod;
Cast blame if you will on my vanity,
But I'm certain he's looking for me

Now the wind wants to join in the game --
Spying a windchime, it takes careful aim;
Soon the air fills with a soft melody,
And I smile, knowing it's playing for me

I watch as the sun sweeps clouds away,
Showing off with such gaudy display;
But I must admit, the sun's victory
Causes the flowers to dance with glee

And I stand in awe amidst this scene
Of peace and beauty.  If I were a Queen
What nobler entitlement could there be
Than these treasures unfurled before me?

A warble suddenly hushes life's din,
And soon more feathered minstrels join in;
But such incidents are no mystery . . .
That's just my garden calling to me

My pen hovers over a blank page
As red ink drips from my wounded heart;
When bitter thoughts flow like Spring's melting snow,
A dark narrative soon fills the chart

O, please forgive the gray clouds that ensue,
But in my world sunny skies are rare;
And many a night I ponder my plight --
But no comforting words stir the air

When love's anguish cannot be constrained,
Then the heart must transcribe its lament;
Sad thoughts find release, bringing a strange peace
That's absent when heartache is pent

A bit of salt may blanket my words ---
Not of the sea and its restless tide
That comes and goes, free of all cares and woes --
But from tears these weary eyes have cried

How much must a heart invest in love
Before it receives a dividend?
Though it pays the toll, it can't reach its goal . . .
Too often, the signpost reads "Dead End"

I pray the Court of Love intervenes,
And this cruel decree be overturned!
Might there be one flower in this sunset hour
Yet to blossom  . . .  or has court adjourned?

I've no need to seek divine deity.
Seeing a glorious sunrise spread its light,
I bow in awe at this amazing feat -----
A solitary star vanquished the night.
O, the majesty of Nature's might!

And as the moon dims his silvery torch,
Feathered minstrels open sleepy eyes;
What choristers could sing a sweeter song?
(To mention angel choirs would be unwise ---
Never have their voices filled the skies)

Rainbow-hued flowers, their heads bending low
To the gentle stroking of a breeze,
Fill the air with a hypnotic scent
And the humming of delighted bees . . .
It is to such things I bend my knees

Then upward my eyes are suddenly drawn
To vaporous clouds drifting lazily,
And I ponder that enigmatic realm,
Hesitant to unfold its mystery.
(Could this be God's true identity?)

Crickets chirping, wolves baying at the moon,
From the pond, a frog croaks his opinion;
The ocean's roar, the Autumn woods ablaze ---
And over it all we have dominion.
And yet . . . I feel I'm Nature's minion

But if an elusive God is your choice,
I look upon you with  pitying eyes;
Marvels surround you, and yet you still seek
That obscure and silent, unresponsive prize . . .
An unseen God that common sense denies!