Deceit and Pity

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Once upon a time, I would have given
My last breath to hear you whisper my name
In love; the balm healing a soul riven;
Reciprocation of passion untamed.
But, your deceit ruined affection, and
To thy mem’ry I am no longer bound.
Your occasional communiqués can
Only be efforts to re-open wounds –
And that Siren song is now powerless.
Although attempts to tear at sanity
Persist, their effect is rendered harmless;
Inspiring nothing more than pity.
   Henceforth, I’ll never take thy word as truth,
   For ‘gainst your deceptions my heart is proofed.

The Grapes of Wrack

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

As fruit unplucked will wither on the vine –
Abandoned to burn in a sun of shame,
Then fester and fall – an untasted wine,
So can love denied rot the heart, and maim
A soul. Neglect will corrupt affection,
Provoking a disease incurable;
Leaving all blackened by the infection
Of doubt – oft’ leading to an unstable
Mind. But, though ruined, crops can rise again,
Or serve to fertilize fields left fallow;
The passage of time can mitigate pain,
Allowing ripened spirits to mellow.
   When passion lies wracked in shadows of gloom,
   It will seek out light to renew its bloom.