Most Ardently, Most Passionately
I love you most ardently, in everything that I do-
I love you most passionately-yet, how might this be true! ?
The way you talk, your voice, those lips of crimson red;
The way you walk-I pay homage to the ground upon which you tread;
Only what you give to me is that which you promise me-
You know that you owe me naught, but to treat me honestly!
I know not bound, nor limit, to how much I loveth thee-
Nor may I count the myriad ways in which I covet thee;
They are both innumerable, as is their origin, Empyrean-
Naught may serve, not even the most beautiful sonnet, Shakespearean-
To properly explicate, to any, the depths of my ardor;
Words may not suffice as such, to enlightenment's barter!
As words surely fail, perhaps my actions make, for others, real-
What it is that I most ardently, most passionately, feel!
-Maurice Harris,27 Spetember 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Her Dubiety, His Surety
'How may you covet me as you do-you do not know me, as you must?
Why then would you endue to me, all your love and trust?
You know me only from afar, and thus, always at my best-
How then, to your unceasing adoration, may you still attest?
You now only beg mine consort, and are not too used to it-
Might you not grow weary of same-or, perhaps bemused, through it?
With time's passage, surely your ardor shall wane-
Then, you shall need remind, of same-again and again! '
'My beloved, precious, Empyrean Proffer-
Today's adoration is but a pittance to what I shall offer;
As each dawn delivers upon us, a brand-new day,
You shall grow to learn: it is a love that is here to stay.
Naught that time may serve to teach us,
Shall have cause but for to allow more ardor, to reach us!
To me, your beautificence, is, and shall always remain, sans pareil-
Though my hearty brims with love for thee-all the while
More still shall there be, as time breeds more familiarity;
E'en you shall barter your doubt for this verity!
Serendipity allowedc that our love 'found us'-
To grow evermore, so that it may always astound us.
We shall never stand to take it for granted:
Time and consort shall always grow what He planted!
One day, your dubiety of today shall wither-
In its place, an astonished assurance shall remain thither.
Where there are now not words, to gather
Clarity to thine sentiment-soon, rather
Soon-the words of your heart's content
Shall be vocalized-as was His intent! '
-Maurice Harris,9 November 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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You Shall Too
Thou shalt ne'er have cause for doubt, toward mine ardor;
Mine sentiment toward thine beautificence is not one with which I may barter:
Naught that thou shalt ever demonstrate
Shall have cause for my doubt, nor for me to hesitate
For even a mere moment, whence consideration thereof is drawn;
Herein lies verbalization of the amity that your beautificence did spawn:
What for hath God bequeathed me, with eyes,
If not to be graced with your Empyrean beauty, and realize
That if not for thee, I would have not cause to so loftily aspire-
As, I have as much cause to covet thee, as I do to respire! ? !
Your's is a beauty more rarified than any earthly jewel:
The magnificent, resplendent Angel, I have dubbed Guzel.
One day my beloved, contrariwise, you shall surely see,
As I unabashedly profess my love-you shall too-for me!
-Maurice Harris,2 November 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Promise
Accept me, I am the love that has always stayed;
Embrace me, I am the feelings that you forbade;
Want for me, as I surely do, want for you,
Desire for me, as my desire, I flaunt for you!
You sought me, yet, were you prepared for what you found?
We have become for each, a love which does serve to astound!
Much reason is there, that our consort had been abeyant,
Now though, each is, for the other: most duteous appreciant!
Wait for thee, I shall, until the Sun stops shining, if need be;
'That which is most glorious is worth the wait', shall my creed, be!
Covet thee, most certainly, as for me, this comes most naturally;
Need for thee, an exalted feeling I esteem most integrally!
For these reasons and others, myriad- this promise I make-
I shall bide for thee, no matter the time it may take!
Maurice Harris,7 April 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Humble Quittance
I dreamt before I again consorted with thee-yet, always it was of thee;
I now see these as my wondrous reality-because of thee;
Before thee, I saw only in hues of gray, no colors without thee-
Now, my rainbow of hues surrounds-I could never doubt thee!
I lived before thee, yet now and e'er, I am truly alive;
A more awe-inspiring consort I could never contrive!
I loved before thee, though always within a known bound;
Ne'er before have I known a love, which doth astound!
I have been known before, yet not as you do now;
I feel as though you always have, yet I know not how!
Now, I can not imagine a life without thee-I shudder;
To explicate proper your meaning to me, I could ne'er utter
Words, whether poetic or not-they would be but a pittance;
All the love I am capable of gifting, my humble quittance! !
Maurice Harris,19 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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What If...
Have you ever wondered what would be,
If your 'first love' reappeared, right before thee?
What if time fashioned her as though from the scape of dream?
Now, this former fond memory is held in your highest esteem!
How does a glory pass, then make present-yet again-
As though the most melodious tune, then its refrain?
When does chance fail to explicate and yield to fate?
Naught may douse the 'flame' that time itself could not abate!
Where does the narrative go hence, you wonder! ?
Perchance not, all the wonderment you may ponder!
God is surely speaking to you, through His Empyrean gifting-
With one Divine offer,2 hearts, at once-are uplifting!
Should you be so blessed as to find yourself so fortuitous,
Celebrate with the world this occurrence, most wondrous!
Maurice Harris,2 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Life's Destiny
I anxiously await rendezvous with my life's destiny;
She hath seen mine own heart, now shall-the rest of me!
An Angel hath called for me-yet, am I prime?
I feel my heart's true exaltation, for the very first time!
I shall present for thee, my beloved: myself, true;
I shan't prevaricate, not even slight- I do so adore you:
Mine eyes have seen glorious, inspired beauty,
Yet, to secern for the world, your's-my God-given duty!
Be not afeared, I shall covet thee as I would, my own wife;
I proffer aegis-I shall protect thee and thine as I do, my own life!
Naught could be more lovely, no more pleasance may be,
Your grace-the most resplendent light, shining brightly, for me!
This magnificent mirth I feel in my soul, naught could portend!
I shall love thee ever more my beloved, as time doth wend!
Maurice Harris,12 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Infinite And Unparalleled
I have given all to thee, expect naught, did I, in return;
One might exposit a certain status this may earn!
Expect only, did I, a certain mutual respect-
What I received though-no one could expect!
You once asked me, not so long ago: 'Do you love me enough? '
What say you now, my dear? Naught do I place above!
I have given all for thee, surely I would all again to remind;
Leave now, my lady, all who hath hurt us, behind!
No doubt should thee have of your place in my heart;
You reside where always you have, from first impart-
Occupy do you, all thought, every moment in time;
Causal art thine essence, to this very rhyme!
My love for thee-infinite and unparalleled for certain,
Alas, beloved, thine own actions causal to love's drawn curtain!
Maurice Harris,31 December 2007
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Beloved
My beloved, if but only you could see,
The depths of my heart's glorious emotion:
More vast surely than the largest ocean
It is my compass, leading me to thee!
Need not any to explicate my feelings, myriad-
Kizmet proffered you, for my life's love
Surely, my Angel you are, from above:
This is truth, sans even petty doubt-period!
Replete am I, with thee by mine own side,
Walking through life together, I for you, you for me-
Nary could I contemplate that it could even be,
Alas, we are here for each to love and to guide!
If peer you could, you would surely my heart's depth,
No longer proprietor of such, for by you it is kept!
Maurice Harris,10 March 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Shining, As A Beacon In The Night
Not able am I to explicate-my heart, with emotion so vast:
Alas, your charms enrapture me, causing my fall, fast!
Await do I, a chance to catch even a breath of your voice-
I go wherest I am led by my heart, I haven't but a choice!
Naught shall be for me it's equal, nary shall there be, ever,
Ne'er shall another gather compare to thee-never!
As though a thousand trumpeteers lauded your arrival,
So too must I glorify you-the essence of my survival!
Our first rendezvous, but a prelude of that yet to come,
The power and glory of which is felt but a very few some!
A love as this, naught shall there be compare-
Tested by time-as if stopped, and we stare!
Resplendent: my love for thee, shining, as a beacon in the night,
Assuring you that you shall ne'er be beyond my sight!
Maurice Harris,12 October 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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I Must Be...
I must be for thee, all that I may-
If but hope do I, to start to repay
The debt owed you for my heart's exalt,
As you safely guard it, in your own's vault!
I must be for thee, all that you need,
For each and every want, I shall indeed
Make any and all effort, to make retort-
For the pleasure of your consort,
It is the least I may do, yet, still-
Remiss, if all your dreams do not fulfill!
I must be for thee, all that you are for me;
My heart's valiant protector, my love's verity-
Many may find love, though, ne'er as have I,
My soul's solitary compeer is now nigh!
Perchance, my beloved, I may not have word
For explication proper, yet this is assured-
I was meant for to become, and be, for thee,
All that you need for your soul's mate, to be;
I am the Sun, which gives rise at dusk, to your Moon;
You are the love, which for me, could ne'er come too soon!
You are the beauty, combined, from all that doth surround;
You are a wonderment which shall perpetually astound;
I am the mighty tree, shaped by your constant wind;
You are the awe-inspiring grace, that naught could portend!
Beautiful words have been combined, for many a year,
In attempt to capture my heart's exalt, and lend it to an ear!
Art has been fashioned, as a form of homage
Or to present to the world, one love's own visage!
Songs have been written, trying to capture the essence
Of same, yet still, words are bereft to define this pleasance!
Wars have been fought, since the dawn of time, in it's name-
Alas, there be victors, the delimitation is still the same!
Love is what makes all other emotions even possible,
Yet, its explication remains enigmatically implausible!
Still the same, the search for its capture shall continue,
In every way imaginable-forum, form, function and venue!
Though, for we two, all I may do is still endeavor, same-
For I am ever-captivated, and you are virtuously, to blame!
As stated many times previous and in ways, many,
Naught is there to draw compare to thee, nor shall, any!
Maurice Harris,18 January 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Eternally Adored
God's mentation surely shorted thee naught-
For if you aren't an Angel, then, to be, thee ought!
He hath bestowed upon thee, eyes most resplendent;
Beyond comprehension-my emotions for thee, transcendent!
The first, when I was very young; Perchance, last whence I, doddery!
As I live my life of wonder, I shall covet thee as my feodary!
Heaven hath no response more beauteous than thee-
Likewise, Earth hath no consort more duteous than me!
Wheresoever you may be, whatsoever you may do-
Whensoever I may have cause to do so, I shall ruminate, of you!
My life was inexorably altered when you sought, then did find, me;
Should you ever doubt your grace, I shall be there, to remind thee!
You are my soul's accompaniment and my heart's reward, -
Perchance, you trust not in forever, yet you shall be eternally adored!
Maurice Harris,8 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Faith's Reward
We may not bide with this glory should we be too afeared;
What for art thou then fawn at what thou always revered?
I have searched my entire life for the one that allows my heart to sing,
My soul to be inspired-to love, more than myself-this is what you bring!
To cause you pain-akin to a self-broken heart, this I shan't e'er allow-
I shall love and covet thee more each passing day-I solemnly avow!
We've been given a truly miraculous, Empyrean gift, always to treasure;
I shall do all I may to honor this, above all else, no matter the measure!
I once thought of happiness as an earthly realm, my acquiescense;
My dreams of more than this met with reality-your quintessence!
This wondrous elation, I simply must always have-it is my life's aim-
These are not mere words, it is notice of my actions-one and the same!
Accept this Heavenly proffer with the enduring faith that brought it-
Embrace all the ardor it provides, remembering why we sought it!
Maurice Harris,11 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Actions Are Sentiments' Verity
Words are but mere lexicon, actions are sentiments' verity;
Where words may serve merely to confound, actions bring clarity;
Actions are the truth, to which words may only portend-
Actions make real, what was once only pretend.
Do not tell me, show me-then I will know;
Do not say you love me, allow the love you profess, to show!
Words tell a story of intentions, actions are their proof-
Do not express a desire for ardor, then remain aloof!
Would you believe I love you if I told you, or more if I show you! ?
After all we have been through, this proof is the least I owe you.
I utter no words before my actions are taken or readied-
I express no sentiment before my heart is inspired and steadied;
When I say 'I love you', it is affirmation of the actions I am willing to take;
When I say 'I love you', it is proof of the sacrifices I am willing to make!
poem by Maurice Harris
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Her Ardor
I believe in, yet know not how to accept, her ardor-
This is my mind's and heart's conflicted barter;
My mind says: 'surely, truth hath been spoken-
Her soul, lain bare to me, ne'er merely token! '
My heart says: 'surely, this may not be real-
Yet, she relays what her heart doth truly feel! ? '
Not once in my life have I been so tender-
Until God shone upon me again, her splendor!
At times, I am in awe, others, in disbelief-
Either way, my heart purloined-she, its thief!
Each solitary nox, as I lie down, to sleep,
I thank God: 'Heavenly Father, allow me to keep
This love she offers me-e'er allow that it be earned-
Assured Thee must be, it will be likewise returned! '
Maurice Harris,5 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Amorous Verity
'I love you! ', this is all I really wish to say-
Yet, my want to drink in your beauty increases every day;
Oh yes! -then there is the fact of my incessant rumination
Upon your every aspect, and resolve toward our determination.
Then again, as I pause, to further ponder-
I may not count as uninspiring, any facet of your angelic wonder:
Many pages may be filled, with many words written,
To endeavor to elucidate the degree to which I am smitten;
'I adore you! '- to hear these words I am sure is quite nice-
Yet, to encapsulate my ardor, it does not even approach suffice!
If you should allow that I, indeed, may-
I shall endeavor most ardently, in every possible way,
To further evice you of but one point, most salient:
You are the amorous verity, for which I am the most dutiful appreciant!
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Love's Avail
I have no words which befit my heart's sentiment,
Nothing could ever properly form it's embodiment-
Alas, I assure thee, my beloved, all that I may, with lyric-
My love's reality doth belie it's very essence, esoteric!
Causative is it: my heart's sweet, exalted jubilation;
Each day next, reason more, for my soul's celebration!
Mundane is made extraordinary; austere, made most fair;
I was meant for but to love thee-this, to all, I do swear!
Not of mine own volition, I hath not a choice
But to provide my amorous heart, a voice-
It doth vocalize a narrative I simply must tell;
All need know what love for thee doth compel!
As surely as words shall always, in this, fail-
So too shall you be assured of my love's avail!
Maurice Harris,20 November 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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I Have But Dreamt Of Thee
I have but dreamt of thee, lo, made you I did, real!
Many a night have you greeted me, as I did sleep-
Many still a solitary nox, were you causal-my heart's leap!
Alas, inducive, your quixotic beauty is, to the glory I do feel!
Never had I made consort with thine own visage....
Until that glorious day whence upon I made realization
That you were more than just mine own fanciful fantisization...
Its glory was revealed, in all its splendor-for its not a mirage!
All owed to that blessed day whence Heaven did meet the Earth-
Lacking for naught am I now, but for to make for this, quittance!
Surely, all I offer thee to requite for such, serves as mere pittance-
Proffer still I shall, all I may, as homage to thee-for my perpetual mirth!
All ever I could have hoped, more still than I could dream!
Hold thee I shall, and honor thee, in most the high esteem!
Maurice Harris,13 April 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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One Day
One day, you will love me, as I do, you:
You will see the beautiful unity in us that I do!
One day, your heart's guard shall see its release:
Then you shall live in a magnificent, loving peace!
One day may come in the morrow, or perhaps in a year-
Its imminence is the only part that is not crystal clear!
It is this-the 'one day', for which I hold fast,
The day where my life shall truly begin, at long last!
The Book says: love is patient, love is kind-
These profoundly simple words do but serve to remind
Of the depths of my devotion to the same-
Love is not love, whence you need hasten its flame!
One day, you shall see all the beauty inherent in me,
Yet first, you need be wise to the beauty inherent in thee!
Look through mine own eyes, there you shall see clearly
Why you are my most beloved Angel, that I covet most dearly:
Explication defies mere word, yet through mine eyes, it doth obviate;
Once you attain privity to same, then only shall you appreciate
All that you truly mean-both, to and for me-
A truly foreign sensation-I am humbled before thee!
One day, your grace shall inherit its beatitude-
Your love in return shall be proper gratitude;
I seeketh thee, only because I simply must,
At last, I found the one, in which I may entrust
My mind, my heart and indeed, my soul-
The one whose virtues, my whole life I shall extol!
One day, your 'distance' shall surely wither and wane,
Then, and evermore, a want for love, you could ne'er feign!
Maurice Harris,28 January 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Gift Of Faith (Happy 3rd Birthday Gabriella)
Today all may celebrate your birth,
Alas, a gift, I am not able to proffer;
Yet, a gift, He hath given-I must coffer
My love for thee, mask must I, my mirth!
I may not share words of praise with thee,
Nor may I dote upon thee, in thine presence;
I long to again share my days with thee,
Celebrating, with the world, in thine pleasance!
Nary doth a moment fleet, whence thought
Does not gather upon thee, nor shall, e'er;
Naught shall suffice to remove the pallor,
The heartache, that day thence, brought!
Sikerly, this too shall pass and be supplanted
By consort again with thee, when this is granted!
I ponder with wonderment, that day, still to be,
Where I may not have to carry this heart, forlorn-
The wonder I have had since you were born;
The wonder now, and the wonder I am still to see!
I brim with pride, though you are not near to me;
With constancy you are with me, this shan't ever
Be not the same-a bond that even time can't sever-
No matter of space, you shall always be most dear to me!
There is no recompense for what hath been taken,
No means by which to stop, nor turn back time;
Naught shall ever requite loss of moments, sublime,
Nor restore, anew, confidence severely shaken!
Sikerly, this too shall pass and be valued and varied-
Through the strength gained, by the burden I have carried!
Maurice Harris,1 February 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Beloved's Ardor
One day, not so long since passed, I heard those words, three-
I knew then and there, I had gained my beloved's ardor, truly!
It is I that she doth adore, she did share with me, the same;
As my heart surely hath been thieved-so too her's-I, amorously to blame!
Sikerly I know what the proffer of her heart doth truly mean-
To covet and honor this calling shall I; No finer glory hath my mind's eye e'er seen!
Two worlds of wonder, each universally unique,
Hath once again come together and do seek
What assuredly is the solitary mate for each other's soul,
Looking to reunite with their hearts, which the other stole!
I have seen and do attest to its Empyrean truth;
To agnize like, you need not seek attestation nor even sleuth!
As water seeks its own level, so too doth love, indeed;
Once a love's true compeer hath been met, it must accede!
Maurice Harris,23 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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