The Saccharine Sycophant

Imminence

O gilded orb of glowing west,

Thy presence hath filled and stilled this breast

Like a brazen maiden, golden tressed,

Awaiting the kisses of lips that pressed

The orange and foam from sunset seas

O sweet honeycomb amidst dulcet breeze.

Cast away are the crowns of copper and sapphire;

Gone! the emerald that shines behind fire

Of silver, ruby, amethyst and gold;

And the Ancient of Years appears to unfold

The crease of the clay that cowers from hurt

Until ceasing one day be surrounded in dirt.

Aloft, young flower! Ah! the death of me!

Great wings of the goddess, soft & feathery,

Enswathe me in splendour with celestial kiss—

And I am bathed and rendered in nuptial abyss.

Hymn to Harpocrates

The plains ever trembling, O passionately kissed
By blades and petals stained amethyst;
Whence night doth stray unto discerning dawn
Whereby diamond dew floats upon the lawn.

The fate of the cerulean becometh set in stone;
It changeth from brilliance to purple loam,
Yet the moon of steel reveals efficacy chrome
And peers into the ecstasy of an ocean’s foam.

Riseth on this hour, O Destroyer of caprice!
In thy triumphing the avarice is caught and released;
Ensured by vigilance, ensnared by doubt,
Entitled to a thirst long beyond that drought.

Saffir’s Song

Now forever in solitude,
You were quondam a token of grace;
Roaming the ford of the celestial stream
And belonging in my immaculate embrace.

The dulcet hold you whilom knew,
Claimed! O expiration of days;
Still dancing at the delta of eternal gleam
And crooning with thy moonlit face.

The Surf

Praise those forested eyes
As I long to climb the most;
My tides mirror the perfect size
Tenderly touching the coast.

Bitter mournings stress the dew,
Claiming the land with a kiss;
Sable waves bid adieu
And I question the capable bliss.

Drizzle the sentimental
With the bleak, distorted rain;
This time, I’ll be gentle,
As you ride the current again.

A Spring Clean

Purposely stepping on stones
So the grass feels even softer;
The fauna frolic aloft the loam
As the flora mimics the water.

Like your wind sweeps dawn with fright,
Our petals sway through our roots!
My arms exhaust the reach for light
When we grow to synthesize truths.

Your dormant blossom ascends the hedge
While my furtive flowers seek love;
And the sly fingers crawl over the edge
Far away from who they dream of.

Days to Harvest

Where bramble emotion doth grow,

It shall dwell betwixt my lone;

Whose sedated strife sprouted with woe

Forsook the rich of thy loam.

Dreary, the bracken doth reach,

Tempted to trim mirrored seeds;

Shall I forage the moor for sweet petal speech

Or wish winter upon springing needs?