Cometh the hour

cometh the man

 

Time in the cross hairs

— fate to command

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

I don’t wish

to be studied

just

to be read

 

Where daydreams

long scripted

danced round

in my head

 

With words

humbly gifted

each phrase

probate free

 

To those

in whose honor

my best

— I bequeath

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

 

Space in meters

words in rhyme

Life in color

— truth sublime

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Each day more treasured …

enhanced by time

and season’s glow

As years grow shorter

feelings lengthen

inside my soul

Regret for others

who sleep away

 their lives assumed

As dawn awaits me

to bask in thoughts of love

— and you

 

(Poems Of Love: October, 2025)

A canon fires

a man is deafened

 

But in memory

— the music plays

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

Escaping the prose …

I hid in the verse

My mind to compose

instead of converse

 

Defying description

I sang through the notes

And placed my inscriptions

in lyrical rote

 

I chose to hear music

over reasons again

To dine with the mystics

where forever begins

 

But when forcing my pen

back to stories untold

The Muse through the darkness

— sets free the kobold

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

She is not

lonely

But makes all

who smile upon her

— lonely indeed

 

She is not

mournful

But makes all

who implore her

— cry like a child

 

She is not

boastful

But makes all

who look upon her

— beat on their chests

 

She is not

faithful

But makes all

who desire her

— pledge from the heart

 

She is not

vengeful

But to ever

betray her

— the gravest of sins

 

She is not

quiet

But from the depths

of her emptiness

— silence is born

 

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

Where your memories lie

are your promises kept

 

The past seeds the future

— as the present begets

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Quirks

of fate

make nonsense

of us all

Shipwrecked

on a vain reality

we stand naked

— before the Queen

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)

Is the artist in me a liar

or the one who lives proscribed

Are my words and deeds in conflict

which to breathe and which to sigh

 

Would King Solomon have an answer

to this split I often feel

Would salvation hold my name in check

or today my soul to deal

 

Do excuses, like intentions

pave the way perdition shown

Do the reasons then abandon

idle hope when left alone

 

Can the spirit claim what time has lost

in its quest to stay inspired

Can the truth once lit inside my heart

— keep all kindled lies afire

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)