A deed is a mark which makes me feel
In creating a great love is its true reward
With waves of light showing me, I kneel
On bended knee to see the path I move toward.
For his is the mark of a crescent moon
From tides a washing the shore with care,
I dance along this path, and I croon
As he absorbs my stare.
Golden steeds do render
Through the sun’s blazing fire
To ignite passions of the lender
Who walks in stride of a Squire.
In the songs my heart sings
I skip when his bell rings.
In the longing for his kiss,
Her heart he casts away
She cries out because of his remiss
Because he has gone astray.
In this dance her crying does bring
Her soul is set to fire.
The cantor offers his word of a king
To find another to be her friar.
For her love shan’t be forsaken
By one so tied to his belief
In light of the roads he’s taken,
Because he is not a thief.
Now her heart has mended
Because her sorrow has ended.
My soul is prisoner to the past
In these diluted visions of ghosts.
How long must this suffering last
In a life stolen by my hosts?
I send for my soul for an offering
To the Lord who will heal my spirit
To cleans the soot from my being
Created by those who wouldn’t hear it.
The woes filling this geyser
Create bitter wines which I drink.
For they shall make me wiser
The longer my wiles go on a brink.
The night brings forth a wave
For every cent I now save.
Every dollar spent on a smile
The man feels taller than a tower
While drifting on the Nile
Throughout the hazy hour.
He shielded his eyes with his cap
For his head was ringing wet.
He was considered a sap
To all the people he ever met.
“What a glorious day,” he sighed,
When walking along the shore,
“For I fly throughout this nigh,
As the Lord opens His door.”
He drifted up to Heaven
When the clock struck eleven.
I drove through town one morning
On my way to the work
When it stormed without any warning
I thought it must be God’s quirk.
For the gusts of wind blew fierce
I turned on my wipers to ease my sight
But the pouring rain would only coerce
Throughout my troubled plight.
I pulled off the road
To wait out the storm
While my heart begun to corrode
Going against the standard norm.
The rain drifted astray
I no longer had to stay.
I stopped by the park on my walk
When the squirrels gathered nuts for winter.
I sat on a bench to gawk,
When my finger was struck by a splinter.
Children ran all over the grass,
Skipping throughout the day,
Till one child stepped on glass,
His family was in dismay.
I felt for the poor little thing
Who bled all over the place
What a trifle to bring
Onto the child named Ace.
His mother wiped away his tears.
Gone were his fears.
© Kiki Stamatiou, 2015