Two Poems

A Prayer

God of Poesy! Grant me a wish, just this one:

So I may use my words discreetly, and never appease anyone;

But blaze thru them Thy Rage pure and sublime, to duly warn

Of consequences of hypocrisy, and forever shun

The platitudes of mediocrity, and to rightfully earn

The scorn of the little men who never dreamt nor yearned

For a place in eternity’s lap that even history cannot make worn.

Love

Love is but a dry leaf hanging loosely from the parched branch;

Let us not complain when the hot gust makes it fall and crunch.

No matter how long the spring here has been to beguile our prime,

Strong are the impulses of extremities of this soul’s clime.