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I HAVE TOUCHED THE FACE OF LOVE
[by Dr.Who3]
[ he begins ]
What light
in yonder portal
breaks through
the murky dark
which hangs 'round me
as laden thick with gloom
Tis my soul. . . .
mine own true heart
shining in the breast
of one whose
inner countenance
eclipses all on Earth
and must in heaven
look for one of equal light
spreading warmth
so true and good
which love has given birth.
[she replies]
As palm to palm
we meet
and breath to breath
we touch but lightly. . .
as shadow touches light
never quite becoming one
til the world
is out of sight.
Your heart beats
and mine doth pause
for such an instant. . .
so we dance
like the candle flame
and wind.
[he reflects]
as I descend from
warmth sublime
to walk again this ball of clay
the wolf becomes a dove
and all must surely see
that I have touched the face of love.
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This is Who
[by Dr.Who3]
You are a mystery
I hope I never solve,
. . .a sparkle of magic,
a twinkle of wonder
in a pale gray universe.
You are the heart of quiet
and the tempest of why
and withal a friend.
You are the rainbow
trapped in the soapbubble,
the jingle of the bells
and the noise of the stars
in my heart.
You are a dream
I can't forget
and whose details
I can't quite remember
as I awake from the mists
of paradise.
You are a wisp of fragrance
blown into my life
on the winds of fortune
and held here by the merest
of whims and the strongest of wishes.
You are part of the song
the birds sing,
a melody taking wing
in my soul
and the pause in my breath.
You are the first glory
of the morning,
the great beauty of the sunset,
and the tickle of life in between.
You asked me,
"Who am I to one such as you?"
I smile and gently I say,
"This is who!"
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Should This Be Love?
[by Dr.Who3]
Should the
feathered tips
of love's great wings
brush gently
'cross my heart
to bring me nearer
Heaven's door
and wed my soul in part?
Should this be love
that pulls my heart in two
supplanting all I am inside
with dreams and wishes yet untried?
Should this be love for you?
Should I love you
in spite of all the reasons not?
Should I throw away
all the passion in my soul
that cries for want and lack of you?
Should I forswear the tenderness
I try so very hard to hide
whenever you are near?
Should my spirit tear itself in twain
to separate from you?
Should I nail my soul upon
the tree of wisdom and convention
or should I with wild abandon
snatch the rose and hold it dear
and if a thorn doth bring a tear,
should this be love?
My heart much like a drunkard
skips and dances,
giddy with the scent and chances
of your touch, your breath;
like wine enhances
all my wayward thoughts of old.
Should this be love so near to death
that makes me more than bold
to reach to grasp the shiny ring
and hope that it is gold?
Should this be love
which drives me on to seek;
your face and voice
as if I were a lamb so meek
without a sovereign choice?
Should this be love?
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Two Sisters Do I Woo
[by Dr.Who3]
Two sisters do I woo.
One is joy
and one is love.
I draw them forth with
poetry of words
and long deep glances.
My heart,
poor drunkard that it is
doth drink their wine
with great abandon.
I have drunk deep
of Joy tonight
and will yet taste
of love's sweet wine
before the birth of morning's star
doth herald day and moments new.
Two sisters do I woo.
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Goodnight to You M'lady Fair
[by Dr.Who3]
Goodnight to you, m'lady fair
with love that sparkles in the air.
I must go to rest my head
upon wild flowers',
a makeshift bed
to dream of starlight bright
and shadows dim
till next we meet
by loves sweet whim.
Goodnight to you, m'lady fair
May grace dissolve your every care
as you too drift through dreams surreal
till the bell of dawn send out its peal,
a single note like purest love
whose echo wakes the sleeping dove.
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