Poems about Emily

Waking Beauty

What could bring salvation

then slip into the light

What could coerce acquiescence

with untraceable strings

guiding so subtly

Only this

a secret who keeps herself

Golden coat over graceful form

paired hidden jewels defy desire

If it remains for a breath

then hold until senseless

hold through death

Do not stir

relish the sanctity

What should be overlooked

as the stillness parts

What should be wreckage

is lying pristine

rising gently to the view

Let it last

just a little longer

A moment grabbed in passing

without permission

told once upon a time

(Morning, 12/7/12)

Peering down the guarded well, there’s beauty in the deep.

I’d pray to cast my bucket in and raise from depths a peace:

A smile that’d spoil an ending world, and guide it to its feet.

But fascination becomes pressure, and each shortcoming requires a chance.

I ask too much.

There may be patience, but I must know:

     With enough chances, there should be success,

     Or the rope might break

         and I’d be left,

         trying to dream

         a way to fly with an angel

The lessons hold, impressions mold the way it should be done.

No defeat means obsoletion, say it could be won:

If not a sprint to make the end, instead, a marathon.

Each glance requires just a moment, but becomes a lifetime I wish to live.

I ask too much.

There may be time, but I must grow:

         Enough with wishes, this beauty is not water.

         A bucket will not hold

                 and then I’m found,

                 determined to invent

                 wings to fly with an angel

(Morning, 12/24/12)