Before We Part

I ask that time, from death, my heart, may save,
And pluck it from the earth's forgiving ground,
Where dirt and depth, conspiring in their grave,
Yet raise, again, the love I've only found.

For I have not enjoyed whole life of you,
Seen crimson twilight set in summer eyes,
Nor grasping chill remind winter is due,
On walks through leaves that fall from autumn skies.

I have not filled my recent memory
With Heaven's blush, like blood in springtime air
That, resurrected from immortal tree,
Sends cherry-blossomed blessings to your hair.

I pray for time to spare my beating heart,
To touch you once, from earth, before we part.

-Michael D. Petti

If I Have Failed...

If I have failed to see the depths of you—
For blinded by the beauty of your face,
Perceive that beauty needs no deeper view,
Nor looks to strive beneath its shallow space—

Then my fault lies in watching stars of eyes
That gleam a universe from you to me,
In thinking that true light of love's surprise
Is all the light my eyes would need to see.

Or holding us within its captive glare,
A knowing love igniting every line—
Forever lit by surface tension's stare,
Though, to the core, I feel your heart with mine.

In light of love, through each new word I stage,
All those who see, see you beyond this page.

-Michael D. Petti

I Will Haunt You

I know I will haunt you after I die,
If first to sever myself from God's grace;
I should not touch you, in life — you know why;
But death will show me our love has its place.

In moments of quiet, I will appear:
Lonely moon slivered by bough-bladed tree,
Wind-wistful wishes, then, wail in your ear—
Longings to leave this life and follow me.

Here, in the silence of dream-spectored light,
I descend suddenly, surrounding you;
You lift your wrist to be bled by the night,
Secret and silver — our loneliness through.

If you won't die with me, I promise most
To be forever your lover, your ghost.

 -Michael D. Petti  

Her Unspoken Spells

I know it is love since she speaks to me
From her heart of hearts where true love still dwells;
Marked by the grammar of pain now set free—
My own heart, haven to unspoken spells.

Intoxication by her sultry voice,
Smothers and swallows my own silent strains,
And in supplication, do I rejoice,
By kneeling before her, with these refrains.

She tells me she loves me in unknown ways,
Beyond the wanton wonder her words, wild
With the unwashed weather of passion's phrase—
Cleansing my palate of thoughts thought reviled.

No sound nor word from her magic mouth slips,
Her charms are cast with one kiss from those lips.

-Michael D. Petti

Recommend this article...