The Call I Never Heeded
Methinks, perhaps you are the call I never heeded;
Perchance not too, more than all I ever needed-
At a time when I longed so much for same,
God sent me an Empyrean gift, upon which He did proclaim:
'I have watched over thee with pride, all of your days
My child, as you are most deserving of such!
I have done same with still another, due great praise-
You hath been made to consort with one another-as much
There is, for one to offer the other, and same, contrariwise-
Soon, both of you shall be privy to a love none could disguise!
Always shall thee have cause to celebrate cheerfully-
Not shall thee have cause to look upon this at all, fearfully!
This is but meant to inspire in you, the utmost regard
For all that is beauteous and fair-to serve as your guard
Against doubt that true felicity is all but impossible-
To bear witness that it is here, now with thee-not implausible! '
Doubt not that which hath given no cause for same,
Hold not liable those, whence others are to blame!
Question not a glory due another glory's fleeting-
Our's is a glory of its own, as surely as my heart is now beating!
Frangible, I know thou heart to be;
Import of its guard, you needn't impart to me-
I know now, and have always had privity
To the affairs of mine own heart and its emotivity;
My own beatitude depends upon that of my soul's mate-
Should there now be any doubt, I ask time to abate!
Maurice Harris,16 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Embrace The Ardor
I thought I had it all finally figured out;
Perhaps I am now afeared, in the form of doubt!
I would wait 1,000 years-even more, for this chance-
To truly offer thee a life-long, wholly committed, romance!
Though, I may not e'er, should you not allow
Me to act upon what it is my heart doth avow!
Your concern hath more import than of self, same-
I should want always, to provide what my heart doth proclaim!
I make no attestation without first, much assurance-
Such hath been the same concerning my adamance;
I am bound by only one inescapable, incontrovertible truth-
I love you more than life itself-lo, this you need not sleuth;
Ask of yourself whether reason may cause you to find any other conclusion-
For if any man e'er knew the true desires of his own heart, it is I-it's no illusion!
Embrace the ardor I see need to offer; Accept, in time, my heart and soul's proffer;
Allow release, through wend of time, your heart-which you now so fiercely coffer!
I have prophesized mine own felicity, now I await thee to provide for its authenticity-
For but only may it ever come to be, whence we are both equal in our complicity!
As now, we may be settled that it is not; I await thee, to ensure, up, thou art caught! !
Awaiting us is all that for which we have sought; To allow this glory's fleeting, I can not!
Maurice Harris,17 May 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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Come With Me, My Beloved
Your smile: brighter than a thousand suns;
Will it answer each time my heart beckons?
Your eyes: more telling than a thousand epic tales;
Will they see the love I have for thee, and see it prevails?
Your heart: more giving than a thousand philanthropists;
Will it allow for its own guard, lest you shall be remiss?
Your soul: the mate to mine own, evidenced from our genesis;
Will you allow for its rebirth, as I, honoring our mutual symbiosis?
E'er I endeavor, still yet, I shan't explicate more vividly than to say-
I do so adore thee, surely more than words, and shall more, each day!
Ne'er could I have gathered such awe-inspiring emotions as these,
My mind hath affirmed its verity, and my heart surely agrees!
Come with me, my beloved-our wondrous world, true, doth await-
I shall love thee more, each day more than the last, without abate!
Maurice Harris,13 December 2009
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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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You May Never Know...
Should there have been any doubt, it is now gone;
Had there been enquiry, it is now and e'er, withdrawn!
No form or fashion of question remains to vex,
Yet, this overwhelming feeling still serves to perplex!
I know this, as surely as I do the Sun will set, and the Moon, rise-
Should I further require validation, I need only gaze into your eyes!
My heart's joyful celebration, its awe-inspiring exalt-I remain duteous;
My mind's eye hath been e'er beguiled by this vision, most beauteous!
Sikerly, this shan't fade, as then, a glory shall have been lost,
Lest, this may be causal to heart's lament, my felicity, its cost!
You may never know the beauty I do see, though
It shan't ever be due to my inability to thusly show
You and all else, what, in me you do always impart;
For you are the solitary cause of the beatitude in my heart!
Maurice Harris,8 April 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Proposal
I shall be your everything, as you are for me;
How do I propose to do this, how might this be?
My beloved, precious Angel, my intentions I shall share
As to how I may endeavor to do this, or yet, even dare!
Foremost, I shall be your heart's e'er vigilant guardian
As you are for me, and e'er shall be, my gift, Empyrean!
Naught is there to draw compare to thee, not ever-
None shall ever come betwixt we two, nor surely, sever
The alliance mine own heart has with thine own mind,
Nor sikerly, contrariwise-each pairing amorously intertwined!
Your every thought, I shall be, due my allegiance of cause-
As you sleep, when you are awake, when busy, as you take pause!
It is my heart's solemn duty, to provide reason, copious
For your heart to brim with emotion, yet remain commodious!
Ne'er shall you need want for any fashion of love or attention,
With every moment, witness again, we shall, its ascension;
As each day passes to the morrow, again it is duplicate-
Our hearts, a symbiotic, pairing, always tending to ameliorate!
Your wants shall be wants of my own, surely you feel the same-
My heart and soul have been thieved, you are amorously, to blame!
Without thee, ne'er could I even make cause to respire,
For you are the solitary source of my mind's true admire!
All I shall be, for thee: your heart's loyal protector, your confidant,
Most trusted friend, your calm in the storm, your duteous appreciant,
The world shall behold the beauty that hath captivated my heart,
All shall revel, as I, in all the glory and resplendence you do impart!
Remiss would I be, if but one single moment lain waste
Whence I celebrated not, the beautificence therein graced!
Maurice Harris,24 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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I Learn Of Strength, Beauty, Love and Compassion
My heart resides with thee, its tutelar;
My consort with thee, in many ways didascalar-
I learn of strength, beauty, love and compassion;
Rare indeed, yet you possess and gift them, absent ration!
As each day passes to the morrow,
I learn more from thee, with hope to borrow
More permanence still, with the passing of days-
Hoping beyond all hope that this bounty stays!
I reside now in a state heretofore only in the scape of dream;
My reality supplants this aspiration, though real it did seem!
I must cause remind daily that this glory be not a wraith;
Proof positive this hath been, in the overwhelming power of faith!
I shan't cease erudition, thee not, pedagogy-same, contrariwise;
Sikerly this shall be our future, as in the morrow, the Sun shall again rise!
Maurice Harris,18 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Quintessential Compeer
I know not, what the future may hold-
Yet, of mine ardor, thou may be assured;
Mine everlasting affinity, thine charms have cajoled;
I offer thee mine heart, hitherto e'er-coffered!
Thou art the counterpoint to mine soul-
Of this verity, I have not, the least doubt;
Thine grace, recompense for what circumstance stole-
Thou art a religion, to which I am most devout!
Our consort was fated, by God divined,
Thou art the quintessential compeer I knew He would find-
The apparition of countless aspiration,
The answer to mine most lofty mentation;
All offered me, is offered contrariwise, to thee-
Thine retort to same, I hope not, a surprise to me!
Maurice Harris,12 May 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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But A Matter Of Time
My beloved, upon this day of myriad amorous thought,
I shall attempt to convey what your love hath brought!
Bestowed unto me hath been days, beauteous and bright-
Whence even the Sun hath not been within my sight!
Days are rife with jollity, whence upon thee I ponder,
Many more, yet to come, in our life, of unending wonder!
Count me now, most fortuitous, my heart's elation abiding-
To thee, and all the world, this soul's capture, I am confiding!
As though I had wished upon a 1,000 stars, falling-
God hath answered this loving heart's calling;
He hath not just seen to my love's fitting requite,
He hath ensured I may love, with all my might!
Ne'er before, in time's hallowed history
Hath this greatest of emotion's enlightenment
Been anything but an unattainable mystery-
My loyalty to love, He did sight and sent
His most beloved beauty, His Angel, most highly regarded
To see fitting continuance of a love, many years ago, started!
God smiles upon me, each and every day-
Taken away so much pain, supplanted with this beauteous ray
Of resplendent beautificence, mine eyes have never seen-
As sikerly, in the world's annals, there hath ne'er been!
My life, entire, I could most certainly spend
To endeavor recompense, yet it would never end-
To honor you, proper, I shall surely strive, still,
With time's infinity, its only lasting rival!
Ne'er did I believe true love, as this, attainable-
As it was my own belief, I must be amenable
To love of another more than of self, heightened and true-
At a time most disbelieving of same, I found this, with you!
Time and distance mean naught, as now I know of your existence-
Shown to be hopelessly futile, is any form of resistance;
I was meant to become, for your consort, prime-
I now know my true love's avail is but a matter of time!
Maurice Harris,10 February 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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Mate Of Mine Own Heart
Where for art thou, mate of mine own heart?
My life's solitary vocation is but to seeketh thee-
Wanton am I of the felicity our consort would impart!
I unfeignedly knoweth this- you too do bespeak me!
If but mine own life, exhausted in this fruitful search,
Shall come to pass without thee, I do implore-
Do not take as cause then to besmirch,
For, as the one-surely, you share my amorous rapport!
Alas, as I, you seek your heart's beguile!
Wherestsoever you may be, whatsoever you may do-
No matter the tribulation, no matter the trial,
Knowest do I this: in thine own heart you shall remain true!
Nearer to meeting still shall we be tomorrow,
That we have not yet- my heart's only sorrow!
Maurice Harris,19 July 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Güzel
Güzel, semper, my mind doth ruminate fondly of thee,
With beauteous thoughts and a wondrous constancy!
I long for thee, for your long-sought, gentle caress,
To beget from, and proffer thee yet, all we each possess!
My heart, gladdens with thought of consort, near;
I envisage our future's glory, in my mind's eye, so clear,
Lest thee bethink me too lofty a dreamer, a vision seeker,
At once, my heart is made both stronger and weaker-
Both loyal guardian and in need of it's own ward,
My love's adorement, whilst in want to be adored!
Always and ever, more compassion clemented, still:
So too this shall be, betwixt we both, at the least, until
Time is no more, life is not with us, space is no longer-
This glory we do both feel, shall we then, though stronger!
Maurice Harris,26 October 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Fashion Me As Your Truth
I wonder what the Fates have in store for us! ? !
Shall we cede to a marriage, the glory now before us! ? !
My life hath traversed it all, yet hath come back around-
To now stand again, in wide wonder, of the joy we have found!
Still, its verity escapes me fully, is this amative yet a wraith! ? !
The answer is on time's horizon, we now faithfully wait!
All I ask of thee: your heart's untethered, veridical tale-
I shall endeavor, contrariwise, to allow my heart's avail!
If but one offer is made, make it thus, I do implore;
You should ne'er be made to want either, forevermore!
Truth of heart and truth of sentiment-one and the same;
Truth should not be mysterious, nor, truth, only in name!
Fashion me as your truth, requited-as I shall, oppositely-
Then only, shall our love alter our life-most gloriously!
Maurice Harris,20 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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A Father's Prayerful 'Conversation' With His Daughters
I wonder: do you yet know the power and import of prayer?
I ponder upon this, as surely you long too, for my presence there!
I miss thee as no means of word may properly expound;
The depths of my heart's lamentation is truly profound!
Upon that wretched day, lo so long ago, it was ripped to shred,
Each new day whereupon I lack thee, is a day I do dread!
Those that have sighted thee, tell me of your grace and lightness,
This is little consolation, I yearn still witness of your ladylikeness!
Nary a moment does pass whence thoughts of thee are not near,
Daddy is fighting for both of us-of this have not, any fear!
My return to thee is written by Him, it is all of which I ruminate;
What hath been imposed upon us is loathsome, this does obviate!
He said unto me: 'My child, much pain I have brought to bear
To assure you, the import of the child for which you shall again care;
For she is the most obvious form of the love I have for thee;
Nary is there to draw compare to the fidelity of thine own-she
Too, for thee, though comprehension full escapes her yet,
She doth pray for same, and has, since last you each met!
Her's is a devotion sans pareil, I question it not for one moment,
Each is ameliorate due the other-soon you shall see My affordment! '
My beloved Daughter, as He hath spoken, unto me and thee, same-
We each may take comfort in what remains to come, not, what came;
Our past is but a prologue, for our future's unity is indeed, bright;
Restored, our covenant-then, e'er, you shan't be taken from my sight!
As we do await this, our reunion, ponder upon memories, precious-
This shall allay any all moments you may have of my return, anxious;
In my absence, I assure thee, nary is there, than you, more import-
I, as you, am exceedingly anticipatory of our impending consort!
Maurice Harris,29 November 2009
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 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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I Am The Most Beloved Of My Beloved
Though you are not now with me, thoughts abound, as remind-
You are the one thing that they did not steal, nor could I, leave behind:
My heart was left with thee, to guard from further harm-
To be kept in the loving solace of your soul-inspiring charm!
I may possess naught, yet I have everything I need:
You are the call of my heart, and I simply must heed!
Though there exists many queries lain insatiate,
All the answers are there already, for the love He did create.
As today's night gives way to the dawn of the morrow,
Love, felicity, and truth, supplant doubt and sorrow.
Though we are now in quite disparate place, this I know,
Our hearts, minds, and souls exist together, as time shall show;
Should you still feel dubiety's pull, repeat after me:
'I am the most beloved of my beloved', then I shall repeat, after thee!
-Maurice Harris,8 August 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Before Ever We Did Meet
Before ever we did meet, I missed thee-
In my dreams too, many times, I have kissed thee-
Before there was you, there was only my heart's retreat,
To opine differently, would be to impart deceit!
I have now but just one all-consuming goal:
To meet again my heart, which you stole!
Until such time as we do again meet,
Surely I am less than whole, not nearly complete!
Forever and always shall I hold you to be most dear,
Foremost are thoughts of thee, though we are not near!
One day, perhaps whence not expectant of such,
You shall find me near to your tender touch!
Naught does there exist else of more import-
To assure us a life where naught else may consort!
Maurice Harris,22 November 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Butterflies
'Butterflies'-whensoever I may felicitously ponder, or make consort
With my beloved, the one with which I must, my life entire, assort;
All that need be is a thought, otherwise so simplistic and bare,
Causal for me to draw compare with this lady, so beauteous and fair!
All is made easy yet, as I visage parallels, everywhere, with everything;
Each day, next, I do look more forward, to pleasures this shall bring!
Ruminations of thee, uplifting, ever-present, and all-consuming-
Made all the better, as I look forward to our wondrous life, looming!
I am made better for the rapport we share-a union of compeers;
I have waited patiently, for the love I now have, to finally appear;
As reward, He hath offered me an Angel, His most precious gift-
Causative she hath been: my mirth, my jollity, my soul's uplift!
Sentiment of most import is this, for its guard, nothing would I not do;
I shall always treasure and covet the felicity it has brought too!
Maurice Harris,2 November 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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