National Poetry Month: To You Alone

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To You Alone


To you alone I write
pen my thoughts and heart
Here, alone, at night

Faithful words, yet, finite
my love’s flawless art
To you alone I write

My emotions, they take flight
round and round they dart
Here, alone, at night

I still love you, oh, despite
betrayal and worlds apart
To you alone I write

How I played your acolyte,
now last regrets I chart
Here, alone, at night

I sigh, under candlelight
and no wisdom I impart
To you alone I write
Here, alone, at night




© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved




National Poetry Month: What It Takes

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What It Takes


Will the day break cold?
Shattering all regretful aches?
Will the world turn old?

Will I remain steadfast bold?
Do whatever consequence takes?
Will the day break cold?

Will I dance in sunshine gold?
Or drown in all the bitter stakes?
Will the world turn old?

What am I fated to behold?
Empty hands or little cakes?
Will the day break cold?

Do I play the cards I hold?
Forever counting my mistakes?
Will the world turn old?

And here I stand, frayed, uncontrolled
while sanity dies and reason quakes
Will the day break cold?
Will the world turn old?




© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved


#NationalPoetryMonth Day 18: Respectable Behavior

Another poem on this Day 18 of National Poetry Month.

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Respectable Behavior

 

Perfect manners and a starched top hat,

around the park in a promenade show;

a charming smile and an exquisite cravat

 

Appearances are all, mustn’t be a prat

Hold the pose with a gentleman’s hello

Perfect manners and a starched top hat

 

Oh no, there’s Lord so-and-so, such a rat

Give your hand in greeting, then bestow

a charming smile and an exquisite cravat

 

Secretly wishing for that coup d’état

of pointless days, caught in the flow

Perfect manners and a starched top hat

 

You stand within society, and it all falls flat

when you dance the room, pretend to owe

a charming smile and an exquisite cravat

 

Isn’t there more to life than fashion and chat

and to drown your sorrows with French Bordeaux?

Perfect manners and a starched top hat

a charming smile and an exquisite cravat


© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved