SUFFER YE NOT A WITCH TO LIVE

One day while I was out walking abroad in the province of zeal

A sight of mass hysteria I happened there to perceive

It too the form of an earnest mob which had gathered in a field

There to burn a witch they said though this I could not believe

They had a woman bound and gagged thrust upon a pyre of wood

The witch must die in flames they said for crimes against the good

What good demands such sacrifice of life like this I asked

That which serves our pose they said behind the sapient mask

This made no sense at all to me skeptic that I was

So I persisted in my query regarding what had been done

By the witch whose eyes met mine in brief, full of a melancholy wise

Their cast imparting a warning of being caught within ignorance’s vise

In answer to my question the mob’s captain expounded thus

This bitch must feel the fire for the abuse of a public trust

She was once our children’s teacher in the ways of right and grace

But she transgressed her proscribed boundaries and now judgment she must face

What wisdom could be so evil I asked to warrant such absolute mute

After all I reminded is not her task’s end to open young minds to the truth

My query aroused a great tempest and the mob began stirring in ire

Then a hag of deep frown and fretting stepped forward to dub me a liar

You know not of her sundry corruptions or how she inspired our kin to doubt

Nor how often she has preached their disdain of our sacred Writ with her sinful mouth

This witch in her insolent way has taught our calves things such as progress and reason

And has with a shameful confidence opined on sex in their youthful season

At this I could only laugh and deem the crowd an inquisition of asses

My smile however soon vanished as about me their conference did gather

Looking me straight in the eyes their leader warned me I ought now to move

Saying be gone ye devil for room there remains upon the witch’s post for two

As the blaze of the poor woman’s pyre was then lit in defense of the lie

A thought from a certain Scripture and its postscript crossed my mind

Suffer ye not a witch to live, the passage read in portentous decree

Aye, I mused, and put to the torch all whom thy fear will not leash

BREAKING SILENCE

Night falls and still the bitterness lingers

The lovers remain exiled in estrangement

Within their hearts the seeds of forgiveness are budding

Yet are threatened with extinction by wounded pride’s frost

Alone in the bedroom a woman weeps into her pillow

Her heart bled by the pain of his words

Anger and hurt compel her isolation from her beloved

But inside the cuts cry out for his balm

In the kitchen a man broods indignant

His manhood injured by her angry spew

Though he swears he’ll not yield in perspective or apology

His aching heart already yearns for armistice

Through the early evening the lovers maintain their defenses

Keeping distance as the guarantor of their hollow righteousness

Though their souls long for the other’s completion and their bodies hunger for passion

Still the lovers resist the thawing of their glacial obstinacy

At length the man makes to confront his woman

And in his haste collides with the vase of roses he gave her for their anniversary

Hearing the crash of glass the woman emerges from her bedroom alarmed

Contemplating her man amidst the mess of shards, spilt water, and scattered petals

A single flower remains intact among the damaged bouquet

And at the whisper of instinct the man stoops and picks it up

Inserting it within the strands of the woman’s long brown hair

His fingers dropping to touch and trace her lips of scarlet artistry

I’m sorry he says as his hand caresses her face in a slow gentle motion

Pressing her lips to the palm that has ever touched her in joy she smiles

Her eyes filling as she entwines her hand with his and answers I love you

Embracing him as their mouths unite and their hot tears of pardon mingle

Their silence broken the lovers retire to the consummation of their restored harmony

The apartment ringing with the sighs and exclamations of their desire’s pursuit of bliss

A regaining of happiness requiring naught but an exchange of compassionate gestures

Between wed hearts no longer deaf to the tongue of healing

VALOR AND DIGNITY

The hour wanes

And the soldier’s day fades into twilight

The bugle’s notes of gentle repose echo across the evening sky

And the fields of duty are silent

Weary the warriors stack their arms

And their uniforms doff in proud fatigue

Their years of fidelity in service their blanket of honor

Their pillow the grateful thanks of a mindful nation

Within their minds’ eyes sleep visions of crimson combats

Where the coin of Mars paid the toll of liberty’s safeguard

Beneath a million far-flung crosses their former comrades remain

Vigilant eternal of freedom’s scarlet standard

At length the warriors depart to join their fallen brethren

Each day the ranks of old bequeath due to time’s advance

The cannons boom in final tribute to the last of the worthies

As the golden sunlight of nobility’s span passes into a long night’s requiem

Yet though shorn of flesh they endure in hallowed spirit

Their courage a perpetual inheritance of honor for all

Their legacy an infinite treasure of valor and dignity

Valhalla earned through selfless bleed in justice’s cause

THE ACTRESS

The actress stands upon the stage of life its nature to expose

An illumination of humanity’s essence her craft’s enduring goal

She summons from the depths of being the sundry shades of emotion’s range

And through the grace of a chameleon muse to unique personas gives shape

Before the wondering public’s eyes she lends voice and mien to character

Lending heart and soul to foreign bones her profound genius inhabits

Be it harlot, princess, lover, rogue, or fool her cast requires

The passion of a spirit betrothed to art her performance ever inspires

From the current scene to the future’s terrain to the forums of Athens and Rome

As antic comic or drama’s queen the actress is at home

Infusing the creations of scribes with the critical breadth of a living dimension

The actress inks imagination’s flesh with the roseate hue of complexion

The actress stands upon the stage of life the human face to unveil

To be as one with the life she depicts her most cherished Holy Grail

Relentless pursuit of perfection within her breast a fire instills

The fair and fecund destiny of verity’s fluent child to fulfill

POLICEMAN’S REQUIEM

Shots ring out, shattering the evening stillness

A figure crumples, blue shirt stained with crimson

In the half-light of a flickering street lamp a brother officer attends the fallen

Catching the last breath of a sentry mortally wounded

The evening news carries the tragic word between commercials

As a Department chaplain informs a stricken widow of her beloved’s passing

While a woman mourns her husband and his brethren a fellow asphalt centurion

The city eats, drinks, watches sitcoms in rank indifference

A few days later a solemn processional winds its way to the cemetery

Where cameras record the familiar appearances and clichés of bureaucrats and politicians

The haunting refrains of Amazing Grace is played by a lone piper to the quiet grief of all

And a folded American flag is handed to a desolate figure in black in silent grateful respect

Within a short span the ordinary routine reasserts itself

And the slain policeman sleeps obscured within his fresh-dug grave

Somewhere a youth raises his hand in solemn oath and receives a shield in pride and honor

And beside him along his beat an invisible partner walks, his guardian angel in harm’s way

SUNRISE REFLECTION

Dawn approaches and the night’s starry tapestry grows pale

Upon the black canvas of twilight daubs of crimson hue are lightly splashed

The golden orb rises in the sky, a fiery crown set upon a virgin’s promise

And a new day is born, the unblemished infant of a fresh morn’s deliverance

STANDING BY

I shiver in the chill shadow of trouble’s menacing storm

And you are with me, the tender shield of my heart’s ardent defense

Your warmth the gentle armor guarding me from fate’s wanton slashes

Your faith the noble arm that wields the iron of my resolve

Through all weathers clear and clouded we progress together

Braving the sundry gales of adversity to savor the sweet seasons of sunlit serenity

With a loving trust as our compass we transit the peaks and valleys of fitful fortune

Standing by in vowed devotion, the adoring angels of each other’s careful attendance

SOME SMALL DIFFERENCE

History it’s said is the exclusive province of Titans

Only Atlas can move the earth

Or Zeus place claim upon the fickle heart of Mnemosyne

Which no ordinary can enchant

Only the gods are worthy of the grudging nod of Chronos

Only they merit the exalting tribute of Clio’s admiring scribe

Or so the notion is argued

However, if I can contrive to make some small difference

If I, poor mere mortal I

Can somehow effect but a ripple in the great golden depths

Of eternity’s fathomless sea

If I can invest a single heart with hope, or inspire a child to

A muse’s calling

Then perhaps I, humble as I am, may earn an honorable mention

In Clio’s scroll of observance

And through such brief notice garner

A small sunlit corner of fair Elysium

THE FACE OF BEAUTY

When I first saw her, an ordinary girl, or so it appeared

I knew there was something of the divine in her wrought

It was not in her form or face, for she was no Aphrodite

But rather behind the eyes I beheld the touch of heaven

Within her gaze there blazed the warmth of Apollo’s orb

And her smile was of a brilliance surpassing of diamonds

Through the glowing kindness of her soul I beheld purity

The sweet clear reflection of a tender heart’s virgin glass

If a further proof I needed of my angel’s glorious descent

I obtained it through the sharing of a lingered longing kiss

Then opening my weeping eyes I again glimpsed beauty

Savoring loveliness in the golden grace of a Jane sublime

AN UNKNOWN SOLDIER SPEAKS

It was long ago I heard the call, the striking blare of Ares’ crimson horn

To follow in its march’s train I went, yielding all unto which I was born

Family, home, and the taste of love in life’s precious spring did I forsake

To meet the enemy of my king in battle and fall unto my forgotten grave

I fought with youthful valor amid bloody carnage, so proud to do my part

I cleft the foe’s ranks in exuberant blindness, until Mors pierced my heart

I fell dripping carmine to the earth’s deep embrace, gasping my last breath

With a deep regret for romantic abstinence being the last thing in my head

Today as ever since the bones of my flame’s brief animus repose unknown

Somewhere, beneath those well-fed grounds upon which my legion strode

Of the justice of that cause for which I died I cannot speak to this very day

And in all truth it matters not as time indifferent has worn my eagles away

THE SUBLIME ORDINARY

Like a grand awakening it envelops me in crackling concision of clarity

And at once I am as one with the vast passionate sum of worldly nature

The sublime ordinary washes over me in an exhilarating cleansing wave

Dispelling courtesy of its redemptive deluge the dull lead hex of Lilliput

As one reborn innocent to the clouding corruption of crowding concerns

I now breathe pure, unimpeded by the inhalation of illusion’s toxic vapors

Now longer weighed with blindness by the scales of everyday perspective

My vision’s thus enticed to the penetration of a flirtatious mystery’s veil

My ears attuned to the audible hum of nature’s vibrant emerald converse

I eavesdrop in wonder upon the unsuspected conference of wild Creation

I loll my tongue and savor the delectable suption of earth’s pungent gender

Relishing the torrid French pleasure of such exquisite commerce’s passion

Yea, I say, this, this is the true reality; what we boast to know is but rumor

If only more of my mortal kin could so experience this sweet clear rapture

Of the sublime ordinary’s yielding and embrace the divinity of its religion

The world would leap to the sky and Deity find mindful grace in its flight

A SONG BEYOND SILENCE

Somewhere, in a tranquil realm untouched by pain and sorrow

A sublime concert resounds, intoning the poignant composition of eternal spirit’s lyre

Wherein the tenors of those departed echo in perpetual harmony

Their loving serenade the unsung balm of the living’s arduous travels

Through the rolling epochs of infinity the choir invisible carols on

Its rapturous verses the supreme sonnet of a striving race’s celebration

During the darkest hours of mortal strife and suffering its Psalm of grace proves saving

The gentle lilting ballad of humane melody a sonata soothing of all savagery

If you would fain catch whisper of the unseen chorus then listen to the cries of babes

And the rapt duet of passions coiled within the spell of rhythmic congress

In these miraculous lyrics may be heard the unbroken hymn of Creation’s enduring

Giving voice in solidarity with the dead to a song beyond silence, and the power of

A mute reaper to stop or profane

COMES SEPTEMBER SOFTLY

The sky is growing grayer now as the season starts to change

And summer’s end is heralded by strength and vision’s wane

The leaves are turning color and the green of earth is lost

Comes September softly, the day is short, and shadows long

For many years I’ve known the joy of spring sustained by love

The warmth and grace of hope sublime savored through your touch

Now as creeping autumn dawns whispering low of inexorable frost

Comes September softly, you are here, and I fear naught

Through every storming weather we have stood and faced the flood

Your hand in mine devoted you’ve been of my courage the sum

Now our ark is close to shore and the harbor of passing looms

Comes September slowly, faith is my captain, I trust in you

Soon the sun shall rise upon a cold and bittersweet morn

And you shall need be strong, my dear, and not in sorrow mourn

For with you I shall ever remain, sweet angel, until your nature’s pall

When comes September softly, your spirit’s freed, and my voice calls

Comes September softly, we shall be one, beyond twilight’s fall