Romance
Romance
Into the Candle’s Glow
Into the Candle’s Glow
We dine by candlelight.
Then I stare into the candle’s glow.
Entranced, I slip away and lose myself
to a loving, mystic awareness.
I am the silent beauty of the candle
whose inner core overflows with melting joy
as it stands crowned
with flame of jewelled light—
I am the candle and the flame
and all that rests upon this table of life—
even the subtle fragrance
and quiet dignity of the deep red rose
that leans, enchanted, toward the candlelight…
as now I see, so do I.
Then I smile at my beloved, who smiles
with wondering eyes at me.
January, 1997, revised April, 2004 January, 2006
Miles Apart
Miles Apart
Perhaps I’m only dreaming you
from tender letters sent in lieu.
It is your presence I must share
so I can know and love you dear.
September, 1974
The Porcupine
The Porcupine
He moved through life’s wild and challenging landscape
displaying his defensive, threatening weaponry—
sharply pointed quills able to instantly pierce
another’s mind and heart like arrows into the flesh.
Each quill was a painfully clear message—
a demand for physical and emotional distancing.
He sometimes yearned for a transformation
of these sharp barbs into Cupid’s arrows—
arrows of romantic idealism
celebrating sexuality and love’s mystery
with adventurous, eager innocence.
He longed for such Romance,
but when it appeared in female form
he purposely ignored her subtle invitations,
ignored his own yearning,
and fought with well-aimed piercing barbs
to fend off her quietly seductive charms.
Romance died, and he moved on…
August, 1992 revised April, 2004
Long Ago and Far Away
Long Ago and Far Away
“Regarde, mais ne touche pas” he told himself
whenever she appeared before him
with that bewitching love in her sad eyes.
This wench had powers that made him fear her kiss
more than a bloody seige on his castle,
for already she’d invaded his dreams
and captured his imagination.
Then there were those mysterious awakenings
and yearnings in the night
driving him crazy with desire.
Sometimes he imagined her in his chambers—
imagined her invisible, starry body merged with his.
Worse still, he’d felt the first stirrings of love
for this strange, enchanting woman.
Yes, the magnetic beauty of her comely face
and the subtle seductions of her body’s grace
posed a dangerous threat to all that he had—
his heart, his mind, his family, his possessions…
The dark knight resolved then and there
he must kill her with indifference—
a look quite clear in its intended meaning.
First, a cruel, contemptuous glare,
then a cold and empty stare…
“Regarde, mais ne touche pas!”
November, 1996 revised May, 2004
Flowerpoet 
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