Words, Words, Words

By Bud Koenemund

For TK

I possess no gift with words; no powers
Magical, nor grasp on love's subtle ways.
Rather, too often rhymes linger, soured
Upon the tip of my quill, as fear plays
'Gainst desire. And, I despair respect
Will seem diminished by repetition.
Though my soul is frozen, I can't affect
Immunity to Cupid's ambition,
For you, Muse, have breathed life into my prose
With beauty and wit, pleasing eye and breast.
And, as sunlight serves to nourish the rose,
Your genius can feed emotion repressed.
   The secrets of passion surpass my ken;
   But, thy favor revives my heart and pen.

Lost in Translation

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

I sought to place you on a pedestal –
Enskied – the sun candescent 'gainst my dark;
Thinking you a being celestial;
An angel igniting the divine spark.
Desiring to shield you from a world
Of slings and arrows aimed at sanity,
Leaves my soul craving grace as madness whirls –
Begging one kiss to void profanity.
This wish to protect never meant possess –
Locking you away in tallest towers.
And, though some fear by worship I obsess,
My heart aches on, praying passion will flower.
   Often by words emotion can augment,
   But love unrequited breeds discontent.

Ghost

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Shrouded in the mystery of my mind
A thought creeps: your perfection was a myth –
Unfound in the light of day – more affined
To fairy tales and love stories than with
Reality. I fear you were no more
Than a shadow cast by a flickering
Candle; an ecstasy left unexplored;
Only a mirage – faint and shimmering.
But, my affection has always remained
Pure; a devotion honest and unfeigned.
Cursed with a memory I can't restrain,
My heart lives a hostage, broken and chained.
   I am doomed to brood over what is lost;
   Enduring each day haunted by your ghost.