(Each Friday I post one of my poems, until I run out.)

Oh, what is beauty? In the silver sound
A shining weave emerges; breaking surf
Against the beachheads of the coast of Life.
“Love levels ranks,” but what will level love?

O, pour me out as a drink offering
To the divine Redeemer of our souls;
Let my spirit be cast as in copper
In the mold of what I ought to become:
For I have plunged deep in wells of love,
I have leapt from the lofty cliffs to learn
To fly in greatest heights of metaphor.
O, that He would rend the heavens and come down,
For human love’s intensity brings out
The worst in men, to mete against the best.

As once Orlando did, in Arden’s wood,
Upon each green and leafy spreading tree
So set his Rosalind’s beloved fame
In letters bold and less-than-perfect rhymes,
So too my instinct is to shout aloud
My dear beloved’s praise and name to all,
Allowing itself only tempered when
Reminded that she knows not of my love.

I think I wrote this poem during my sophomore year of college, due primarily to the allusion to As You Like It. I seem to recall having this title suggested by an early reader, but I don’t remember who. I’ve now also posted it to my wiki. As always, I would greatly appreciate and eagerly request your feedback of any kind (though the more substantial the better), including critique, questions, comments, or suggestions (especially of what to post next, since I’m running out of old material).


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