Poems are Fun!

The wordthief As the crow's caw, the pine's rough-scraping bark, These unsure hands, this stumbling tongue of mine; So I must steal another's lamp to shine Light on the faithful contours of this heart. Soft word, glad glance, bright storm of angered grace; Each turning image, turning each day anew, Till I am laid beneath the reaching yew, Keeps in a plain man's heart its cherished place. Take down this book, and in the flames' last glow, Smile at these hobbling lines and understand You held as true a heart within your hand As Maud, or Ronsard's Helen, long ago. - Written on the flyleaf of an old Yeats anthology. This is corny but honest. I'm a very lucky person, at least in love. Anyway here's my entry, I hope you enjoy it if nothing else. I would rather remain anonymous. Thanks for reading it. :) Not much is known about the martyr St Valentine Sacrifice doesn't feel all that romantic Yet I know for you I'd put it all on the line Playful arguments reveal I'm pedantic Silly soliloquies shared with you and cheap wine I wonder if the Saint would approve of our tryst Reading Chaucer under a waxing moon Cuddle for warmth and so waxes our lust I wonder what made such a goddess fall for a loon Holding nothing back I embrace you in complete trust Strange emotions overwhelm and I fall to swoon You reduce a man to a boy I am your listless toy For you I'd give all And welcome the fall The overture Was Rapture Saint Valentine may have been a fool Yet I admire the spirit of this martyr Love-addled I lose lucidity  I've taken on St Valentine's charter I am in your hands, I shall be your tool Let us shape something beautiful in all this The bliss of your kiss Is too much to bear What a king amongst men must I be To share the riches of your love I did not believe in a Heaven Yet you must be from above In you I've found purpose In you I find meaning The mysteries seem trite When under your light Strewn blankets and disheveled hair Within our secret love lair Ours has been the sweetest affair My Hesperus, Venus I adore you so In your faults I find perfection How blessed am I to be your selection I forget my woe Because you are mine, my sublime Valentine *Dear Traveller* When will I find the one that knows me? Are they in Nepal, on the mount? Guide me to you. Do they watch the water spin down the chasm of Lake Victoria? Among the reptiles, maws open, In muddy waters I would crawl to you. Darest any dragon defy me? Tell me of the Tundra There is no cold I have not known. Without you, lover, I cannot grow. Every ray of sunlight is a betrayal. Dear traveler, will I ever find you? Would I know if I saw you? Would you know me? Do you know me? I am here, awaiting the skip of a heart. The light of the eye.