Il Mio Respiro

For "Her."

In truth, my words are writ by thy fingers.
Is it not you who first taught me to love;
Who enchanted me while my eyes lingered
On thine, and kindled a flame undreamt of?
What glory can be mine when the sound
Of your voice arouses my pen? O, spark
Imagination by thy touch; and compound
Thee little songs with kisses in the dark.
Lady, though I fear my desires blaspheme
Love, I pray by such devotion you know:
Your breath is my breath, your dreams are my dreams,
And your body houses my very soul.
O, Muse; O, Fire; O, living passion;
Thou art my bright heaven of invention.

The Eye of a Hurricane

For Amy Lynn Watkins

A maelstrom of emotions torment me –
Love; hate; desire and desperation –
Infusing my thoughts with an energy
That breeds both destruction and creation.
Howling winds of insanity tear
My reason, and lash my mind with surges
Of doubt which leave my spirit in despair.
This tempest rages; wave and sky converge
In their fury, as I fear for my soul.
But, then I remember your eye, and take
Solace in the thought; for this peace unfolds
A haven ‘til the storm within me breaks.
Love has ever been both blessing and curse;
The sweet torture we suffer on this earth.