Poetry

These are 4 poems I wrote about two years ago. Three of them are on the same theme but in different forms. The sonnet was read to the Queen on 3 different occasions. Thank you for your indulgence.

Caress

My fingers to her hair gently brushing

Then to her cheek, soft and smooth

I touch the tips to her ear, to her neck

Feeling the sudden warmth of her



The eyes, dark, full of light and laughter

I circle easily, touching the lids

Tracing gently the bridge of her nose

Tracing slowly the line of her jaw

To her golden, silken throat, I linger

Then lay my hand upon her chest

To feel her heart racing

Our breath quickening together

Quietly to her lips, full, soft and moist

They slowly part and I feel her soul

My fingers cease, then pull away

And my lips, again and again, follow the path


Merlin's Lament


I will howl into the wind

that now in my autumn

I do find the nymph, the dryad Nimue.

Long of leg, dark of hair

Ivoried skin with eyes of haunting coal,

this beauteous nymph,

this glorious Nimue.

I will curse the moon
for power to change

my gnarled age to surging youth,

to gather at the skirts of she,

the enchantress, the tormentor,

that wondrous nymph,

that glorious Nimue.


I will stumble and fall,

left within the oak

as she goes her way unshod upon

the frosted paths of forgotten forests

Toothless, I will watch her leave

the smiling, the touching

this fickle nymph

that sorceress Nimue.


Iambic pentameter version, same title:


I will howl into the wind, I, Merlin,

that now in my autumn, my end of days,

I do find the nymph, the dryad Nimue.

Long of leg, dark of hair, ivory skin

and eyes of haunting coal, burning my soul

this beauteous nymph who owns my old heart,

this glorious and wonderful Nimue.



I will curse the moon for power to change

my gnarled dotage to surging raw youth,

to gather at the silken skirts of she,

the enchantress, the tormentor, my love

that wondrous nymph, that glorified Nimue.



I will stumble, fall, unable to chase.

Left within the oak, eternity waits

as she does make her way to walk unshod

the frosted paths of forgotten forests

Toothless, sightless, I will sense her leave me.

Gone the smiles, the touches; the kisses.

Fled has this fickle nymph, this sorceress,

the keeper of my soul, this Nimue.


Finally, the sonnet:


I will howl into the wind, I, Merlin,

that now in my autumn, my end of days,

I do find the nymph with ivory skin

and eyes of haunting coal, she ever lays,



this beauteous nymph who owns my old heart,

this glorious and wonderful Nimue,

within my arms, we will never part,

She lies with me now and will ever stay.



But I will stumble, unable to chase

Left within the oak, eternity waits

Toothless, sightless, she will leave me abased

Fled has Nimue from my cold, crumbling gates



Gone with the touches, the kisses this day,

the poisoner of my soul, fair Nimue