I'll spare the cliché of cursing myself 
And wishing to have those hours returned:
The times we ignore each other without
Intent or perhaps on purpose; the plane
Of minutes so empty, let down, bereft,
When longing and conversation so yearned,
Igniting as hope so briefly piffs out
The fuel of an interaction in vain,
Expended; and longing only remains.

But wanes and then you return once again,
So soothingly, never mad as I fear
You might be for all the times that I fall
Asleep when you want to talk.

The pastel orange sky in bloom
Briefly bears its fruits of sunset,
Peaches into plum-hued cloudjets
As lonely creatures spy the moon:
Quarantined, cloistered by the threat of disease,
Silently longing to the point of fatigue.

Now hear cry the unvoiced need denied;
For lack of means and safety dubious
Lovers languish, celled by cellular threats,
Longing longer, as the hours alone stretch.
Then waning shrink all time too, fooling us;
Whispering coldly, loneliness it descries,
Limitless isolation—two lives' divide.

A small rhyme to distract me from time,
A playacting in dreams. Magic means
To make distances seem fading scenes,
A small action to bring love sublime.

I sing off to the side quietly:
I'm lost, hearing a sweet melody
That wings into my mind stridently 
Across time as the words ferry me
To night, keeping your sweet cobalt eyes
In mind's sight for the spell I've devised.

Arcane methods to bring you to me
Despite waiting and work's clamping grasp;
Mundane really, but oh, how it seems
The soft sight of your eyes makes time pass.

I yearn for your company on this still, lonely night
With nothing beyond the sill but the fell turn of time,
And silence responds in kind to my sad, silent plight:
Confusing our bonding further than where friendship might.
But mine, to be ever loam that’s unplowed, cherishing
The signs of a day endowed with a hope; trusting in
The dream that for now is only a mere pantomime,
But how the design uplifts me with love here in rhyme!

Here in the crystal spectacle
Of an eternity living in your eyes,
Here I can see beyond the low
Fogs and ephemera solitude contrives.
Finding myself transfixed in soul,
Knowing together we shelter here inside,
Safe from the glamours, safe from those
Beams and refractions that radiantly blind
Us, who, disoriented, go
Groping in fear, believe nobody is there,
Balk and despair, capitulate
To unassuageable lonesomeness, but no!
I am and you are–unified,
Safe and together. No power and no fate
Holds a domain to separate
Gazes we share, remove you from my embrace.

The earth sops the rain and is made no richer,
Drinks deeply, languidly, then returns to sleep.
In pitch black, alone night the tears uncounted
Fall softly and unnoticed in lovelorn deeps
Beyond houses, past hearts in hazy twilight.
Mute midnight sobs for once, then composes this,
The world's careless din; and its ululating 
song ebbs among the swells and transposes all.


Confined lovers weep, quivering in darkness
While feckless fate so brutal sequesters each
Entrapped soul apart; dreaming, fretting, praying:
Cries power, intervention of godly grace,
Uplift them from long nights alone while fearing
Death threatens their beloved, and every day
Without him is pain. Though assured and holding
Fast, pledge of love held high for his lover's eyes,
He must grapple, must war against the dungeon's
Reach; all around when he isn't here is bleak.

If I could fill the time I have, could write
Out what I dream to hold, do I believe
The words I find could struggle to that height?
Does greatness grow in soil of what's perceived?
If so, how can I hope? This land is blight,
This time is stillness, truthful words deceive;
A din of faceless voices overflow
As truth becomes mere noise, and every art
Seems shallow. What is there to help me grow?
What circle could I fit in? Here, apart,
I find myself so distant, it's as though
The world exists beyond my reach. Below
The real I feel eradication start;
The bonds dissolve and, separate, we depart.

At times I hate the songs of birds
And softly plucked guitar strings heard
On lonely mornings, solemn nights;
Their melancholy notes alight
Upon creation ever born
Anew, no matter if forlorn
I view at length and hear anon
As life floats out of reach beyond.