For What It’s Worth
9-14-02
FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH
From the onset of our fancies
Construct we our fated hope-so soul,
Beset with peculiarities,
Uncovered in this maze we undergo.
A heart in superior property,
A mind with music’s dance,
A spirit that longs to be free,
A mood so shaped by glance.
Yet, it is in tangible features
That the weary find cause to bear,
For seeing so noble a creature
In the tilt of your head, the tint of your hair.
The light cast of your eyes,
What source forges that tranquil grin?
You seem a measure of surprise,
Yet, I recognize something therein.
Some call it a sigh in the soul,
Or the muse of the poet’s quick tongue.
Others, nary a glance, do know
That any word brings the magic undone.
So with effort in this rhyme,
Yes to you these only lyrics I reveal,
No romance is a deep-cut crime,
And you, an uncanny forge of a dream I feel.
Thus your ‘Fun Spirit’ is idea manifest,
Perhaps chiseled from my hope high-born,
A gentle-born beauty, that I must confess,
Shines in this eye like the sun of a new morn.
So please don’t take me the fool,
As words thus written are often judged.
Merely fashioned I, an ice-break tool
So allow yourself no grudge.
So grace me with an echo,
An answer if you will.
The hour is late as you know,
Do urgent hearts find their fill?
For far too long I have wandered,
In search of that genuine soul,
Who exchanges all I’ve squandered,
My burdens, for a solid heart of gold.
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