Variations on a Theme

By Bud Koenemund

‘Tis true, I must confess, many of these
Little songs seem only variations
On a theme – rhythms, with rhymes meant to please
The eye: imperfect stabs at perfection.
Yet, what idea, save love, could entice
Such verse prolific; praise so inspired;
Promises of passion and sacrifice,
Whether facing Heaven or hellfire?
I do fear repetition may dampen
A heart’s assessment of sincerity;
Though that judgment will never lessen
Zeal; nor taint these musings with perversity.
   My form is rough; iambs full of defects;
   But, pray, let this not detract from respect.

Believe in Love Again

By Bud Koenemund

(Written: December 2020)

I will help you believe in love again;
Make thee feel adored and celebrated;
Safe enough to surrender; free of pain;
Sans sorrow; through my affection sated.
I’ll gather the pieces from your broken
Heart; combining them with such remaining
Parts of mine; building a fire which mends
Both – forged as one by passion unrestrained.
My soul’s quest shall be to make you smile;
Holding thy hand while healing the spirit.
Let not these flowery words beguile
Your eyes – those orbs I can never forget –
   But, trust in my actions, for they will prove
   This respect and devotion ‘ever true.

Stuck in the Middle With You

By Bud Koenemund

(Written: October 2020)

Every word I’ve written thee is true –
My passion sans deception. Be assured
This heart remains dedicated to you:
The affection pledged innocent and pure.
But, sometimes I feel lost; directionless;
Wanting guidance. Lacking thy confidence,
I’ll find myself in the same wilderness
Where, once upon a time, indifference
Starved this soul near death. Yet, Lady; I know
Your past and mine that way are kindred.
Though, in life, we have both paid heavy tolls,
I pray, together, love grows unimpeded.
   While insecurity conspires to
   Deceive, it cannot dim respect for you.

By Your Inspiration

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

I am, too often, deficient in speech;

Struck silent by the war ‘twixt intellect

And passion; seeking language that would reach

Your heart; confessions I pray might connect

Our souls; striving to express desire,

While pledging the respect of innocence.

Though my rhymes are feeble, I must admire

Thy beauty, and compliment elegance.

Muse, thou art more deserving of esteem

Than any who treads upon the base Earth

We inhabit. From that grace, like sunbeams,

Words radiate to celebrate love’s worth.

   Be sure such light enkindles creation,

   For this took life by your inspiration.

Heart for Heart

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

My affection was never held secret;

Attraction confessed; with all its defects,

Sentiment lay exposed from the outset;

Unguarded; lust defeating intellect.

I offered self, desiring the same –

Heart for heart, hand for hand, and soul for soul;

Love enkindling passion without shame;

Intense spirits blazing beyond control.

But, yearning could not win respect, and pleas

Fell on ears deaf to solicitation.

Emotion withered, leaving me lonely,

As desolation replaced devotion.

   Despite intention pure, and honor sworn,

   Everything was too much to ask for.

I Loved You the Only Way I Know How

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

I loved you the only way I know how:
Everything I am, or might have become,
Offered freely, and attended by vows
This affection to death could ne’er succumb.
Although sanity was oft’ suspect, no
Measure of devotion can truly gauge
The quantity I swore to thee would grow
E’er stronger as respect ripened with age.
But, shame will stain one who dares to grant all –
Mind, body, and soul – without guarantee
Of recompense, and I lived on enthralled;
Believing someday you’d answer my pleas.
   By all things enskied ‘tween Heaven and Hell,
   I did worship thee past what words can tell.

Concupiscent

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

I write so oft' of my respect for thee;
Assuring my heart's allegiance to thine –
A bosom prized above the air I breathe –
Begging thy hand; our fingers intertwined.
But, lust has o'erwhelmed thoughts of purity,
And desire craves thy touch on my skin,
While we mock the curse of avidity –
Two merged as one in consecrated sin.
Passion swells, demanding release boundless
As fantasy; yielding all; submitting
To nature, and each other; a guiltless
Surrender to hunger unremitting.
   Though I seek no grace for concupiscence,
   I pray my true love will pierce thy defense.