Messages from My Soul

A Crown of Thoughts

A CROWN OF THOUGHTS

A poem to compose have I fatigued my eyes

My beloved, to find the verse to aptly suffice--

A fitting tribute to you: a crown of roses!

Only that roses against your beauty might pale

To your wisdom adorn the sweet petals might fail

So this poor gift receive. . . a woven crown of thoughts.

I molded the words from some fragments of the sky

Sewing them together with threads of light that I

Have stolen from the beams of a weeping silver moon;

I've captured the breath of dusk nearly dead and gone

And wrote with a plume forg'd with the hopes of the dawn

For, my love, no fleshly gifts fit for the likes of you.

I plucked the rapture off the wildest trails of thought

And the sadness in every teardrop I have sought

Concocted them in the cauldron of the witches!

Tomorrow's promise I've sounded and I've taken

And in a veil draped it of a past forsaken

And then I bound it with the essence of today.

I adorned the crown with precious gems of peace

I have stolen from amidst the turbulent seas

Polished by the mists of a morn in the offing;

I dyed it with the fires of the meteor shower

And harnessed for you this yet unmeasured power

In hopes, my love, that you'll take pleasure in it.

And over the meadows the little bird that croons,

I have spun the virgin silk of its lilted runes,

A symphony to the baton of the breezes!

I ornamented the crown with a woe enshrined

The fatigue of endless musing, the worn-out mind

That hungers for rest, my dear, that hungers for rest.

But 'tis not the ornaments, 'tis the grandeur ne'er

That this fragile crown secures together--

Beloved, no, beguiled be not by how it seems.

For beneath this veneer, if you'd bother to seek,

There sits the treasure true, apart, alone, and meek. . .

For it is my heart, aching for your love.