August Thursday

I am the tangled mess
The girl of your youth, whose eyes you dared not look deep into
And never said goodbye to

That I saw you, lovely, tangled, too
Need not have scared you

My broad understanding
Your broad shoulders
We were called
To beckon back the lightning that twisted our existence

But for your fear of me that August Thursday
But for my depth that ran too deep
And your unspoken goodbye
We’d have set our world straight

But instead
Tangled, tangled mess

The Exam

Love it is
Don't say it isn't
Abandonment it became

Then followed fear
Oh, the prospect of life
Without me wrapped 'round you

Anger clouds
The very-present love
I had and I have and I'll have


Endeavor where smallness 
Says you ought grasp
Stupidly seem to settle

Admit and tell fear
You are in fact, petrified
Let it think it won 

Reach breathlessly then, baby
Heavenward and find
Stardust-covered triumphant arms

*Original Thought Credit: Robert Browning; “Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for?”

Date With The Devil

O say salted Cap’n

As you steered her out nice
Having stolen the helm
Did your first mate fend all for her own

As you bellowed charter
In the galley that eve’
Did your keen eagle eye keep the course

As your senses took leave 
Of pirates you perceived 
Did you throw your bounty overboard