Passionate One
This is a love poem I wrote for my wife Beth.
Passionate One
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Love of my life,
light of my morning,
arise brightly dawning,
for you are my sun.
Give me of heaven
both manna and leaven,
Desirous Presence,
Passionate One.
Keywords/Tags: poem, poetry, love, life, passion, desire, dawn, light, sun, heaven, manna, leaven
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The Celtic Cross at Île Grosse
by Michael R. Burch
Passionate One
This is a love poem I wrote for my wife Beth.
Passionate One
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Love of my life,
light of my morning,
arise brightly dawning,
for you are my sun.
Give me of heaven
both manna and leaven,
Desirous Presence,
Passionate One.
Keywords/Tags: poem, poetry, love, life, passion, desire, dawn, light, sun, heaven, manna, leaven
Love Poems
These are love poems by Michael R. Burch. Some are poems about love in desert places where Bedouins have learned to do without. The poems include everything from heroic couplets, sonnets and villanelles, to free verse and haiku.
Sonnet: Once (a confirmed bachelor recants)
for Beth
Once when her kisses were fire incarnate
and left in their imprint bright lipstick, and flame,
when her breath rose and fell over smoldering dunes,
leaving me listlessly sighing her name ...
SNAKE IN SEA
Sin-maker or sin-eater
both author the snake in sea
swimming unending love waves
in colors that cloud the eyes:
bodies of desire float up
passion, dream and infinite
Two Sinners
There was a man, it was said one time,
Who went astray in his youthful prime.
Can the brain keep cool and the heart keep quiet
When the blood is a river that’s running riot?
And boys will be boys the old folks say,
And the man is better who’s had his day.
The sinner reformed; and the preacher told
Of the prodigal son who came back to the fold.
And Christian people threw open the door,
With a warmer welcome than ever before.
Wealth and honour were his to command,
And a spotless woman gave him her hand.
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Transit of the Gods
Strange that the self’s continuum should outlast
The Virgin, Aphrodite, and the Mourning Mother,
All loves and griefs, successive deities
That hold their kingdom in the human breast.
Abandoned by the gods, woman with an ageing body
That half remembers the Annunciation
The passion and the travail and the grief
That wore the mask of my humanity,
I marvel at the soul’s indifference.
For in her theatre the play is done,
The tears are shed; the actors, the immortals
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True Love
It is true love because
I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day
Even when there's no one here but him,
And because
I do not resent watching the Green Bay Packer
Even though I am philosophically opposed to football,
And because
When he is late for dinner and I know he must be either having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,
I always hope he's dead.
It's true love because
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True Diffidence
My boy, you may take it from me,
That of all the afflictions accurst
With which a man's saddled
And hampered and addled,
A diffident nature's the worst.
Though clever as clever can be -
A Crichton of early romance -
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven't a chance.
Now take, for example, MY case:
I've a bright intellectual brain -
In all London city
There's no one so witty -
I've thought so again and again.
I've a highly intelligent face -
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Trilogy Of Passion 03 Atonement
Passion brings reason--who can pacify
An anguish'd heart whose loss hath been so great?
Where are the hours that fled so swiftly by?
In vain the fairest thou didst gain from fate;
Sad is the soul, confused the enterprise;
The glorious world, how on the sense it dies!
In million tones entwined for evermore,
Music with angel-pinions hovers there,
To pierce man's being to its inmost core,
Eternal beauty has its fruit to bear;
The eye grows moist, in yearnings blest reveres
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Trilogy Of Passion 02 Elegy
When man had ceased to utter his lament,
A god then let me tell my tale of sorrow.
What hope of once more meeting is there now
In the still-closed blossoms of this day?
Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou;
What wav'ring thoughts within the bosom play
No longer doubt! Descending from the sky,
She lifts thee in her arms to realms on high.
And thus thou into Paradise wert brought,
As worthy of a pure and endless life;
Nothing was left, no wish, no hope, no thought,
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