The Dream
What are dreams really, but our hearts speaking to us?
The realization of that dream is what I am seeking through 'us';
I must answer-my heart doth now and resoundlingly call me;
I shan't be prey to what would otherwise befall me,
Should I not listen to this call which pervades through my soul-
I need my half-couplet heart to dwell with its mate, to be whole!
Had not the fates intervened as they have, I may be none the wiser-
That they have though is causal to my ardor, gushing as a geyser!
Had not this gift presented its endow, I may not know any better-
Though now I do-now and evermore, I shall be to same, a debtor!
My heart now basks in tranquillity;
My soul now rejoices in its jollity;
My mind is rife, with wondrous possibility;
The dream-beautiful and brilliant in its clarity!
Maurice Harris,25 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Dream-Ender
His eyes have born witness to many a glorious place;
His heart has gained privity to an ardor that time may not erase;
His mind has fashioned his dream's amorous reality;
His soul briefly exalted in this wondrous causality-
Though, he may never truly be allowed to live the same;
Yet, he must believe that once again this chimeric flame
Shall alight upon him, and never falter or fade again, from his sight-
To once again serve as his beacon, through the dark, lonely night.
He shan't begrudge the dream, for its lack of punctuality-
To do so would be to accept an alternate, lesser reality.
What for to dream, but for to exalt in its splendor! ?
Aquiescence in the face of same would make him a pretender;
He shall never embrace a lesser dream, nor its surrender:
He may never live his dream, but shan't be the dream-ender!
poem by Maurice Harris
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With Arms Wide Open
My mind, rife with moments yet to be;
Your absence, I shan't allow to get to me;
My heart, it's lacking again, after a brief respite
From the vigil it has pulled for my beloved, despite
The miles betwixt and with time itself not allaying
Any dolor I may have-though, its needs I am obeying!
My eyes have seen a glory, so now I know it's real;
My soul's capture is complete, it's reality I can feel;
My arms long to nestle thee-I, remiss, for not
Making allowance of your desire, to have-I ought!
WIth arms wide open, I welcome your return;
All the love you need have, sikerly, I shall earn;
Our future shall be written, upon the shoulders of ardor-
This is but the natural order, with which we shan't barter!
Maurice Harris,15 March 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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The Superimposition of Somniation, In A Search For Serendipity
Alas, it was all but wishful wonderment, by way of a wandering dream;
Somniation surely it was, yet, real it did seem.
Spurred by a mysterious messenger, who left but a name-
A first name only-as though confoundment was his aim.
I somniate rarely, yet, their reality tends to astound:
They can gift a voice and form, to someone no longer around.
'What does it all mean? ! ', I wonder, as I bolt awake-
'May there be a message from this, that I may take? ! '
My heart was once again rife with jubilation-
All due this now-fleeted fantasization.
Its allusion was pointed-toward a path not taken-
And its conclusion, unequivocal-this choice was mistaken.
Surely, this dream was not merely a singularity-
Another must have been had, to provide further clarity!
Might this be but half-and only when superimposed
Over another, might a whole dream then be composed! ?
The entirety of this aspiration's audacity
May only truly be gleaned, once the capacity
To understand is gained, over this aspiration and its mate.
Serendipity alone may gift this-and only through the powers of Fate!
-Maurice Harris,7 July 2012
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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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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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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
poem by Maurice Harris
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You, You
You, you-wonderful, glorious, amazing-you;
What is a humble appreciant such as I, to do-
In the face of this ardor, so amazingly true?
I beam now e'er, clothed in this perpetual endue-
Now recast in a beautiful, resplendent light-
Which shall sustain me, until I am within thine sight!
Naught exists for this, as proper recompense,
But for the honor of your consort's pleasance;
Earthly jollity is but a pallid dream,
Whence weighed next, my soul's redeem;
A glory as this is not extant, it would seem-
But for the verity of the simper, I do now beam!
Obligation owed to Thee, for this precious gift:
The Empyreal presence, causal mine soul's uplift!
poem by Maurice Harris
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Heart's Elation
Time means naught, it is but a harbinger of the inevitable;
Space means little too, though it limits time together, available!
My amorous wonderment is for a beauteous lady, not a spectre-
She is my muse, my soul's solitary compeer and my heart's protector!
This was once but a dream, yet now is a magnificent reality-
My heart its vessel, yet it pervades through all forms of modality!
It could only ever have been now, it only ever have been her,
I see, where she can not, all the outward beauty, and that within her!
Listen to what you know is truth, be not afraid for its fleeting;
Forever more, please know, our heart's elation bided for our meeting!
We are not like anything either has ever experienced,
We are a pairing as yet wholly unaudienced-
The Heavens shine upon us, with a gleeful pride,
Asking that we use but our heart's elation as our guide!
Maurice Harris,18 April 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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My Anguish Echoes Loudly
Upon sight of thine visage, I was overcome with emotion;
My tears formed a deluge, as though the Heavens wept-
I lied awake all night in thought, as all others slept.
My absence now, and always, belies my heart's devotion.
This pains my soul, which cries for consolation-
I am bereft of sentiment proper, though an attempt I offer;
Same is causal to the heart I now regrettably coffer,
Lest I may experience a refrain of its total devastation.
Sikerly, this shan't always be this way:
A heart afeared of grievous pain, much to my dismay.
The balm of time shall cease what now is not bearable:
The anguish of my heart and soul, not shareable
In words, nor like experience to which, you, I may steer-
My anguish eachoes loudly, though you may not hear!
-Maurice Harris,12 April 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Invalidate The Thorns, But Relish The Rose
You did not have to choose:
You did not have to lose
'The answer to your prayers'
Due the fears of the masses;
Perhaps you'll find, as time passes:
The heart that truly loves, dares
To make the dream real, and gains
More strength and verity every day;
Whilst, the heart that halts and reins
In its ardor, withers slowly in every way.
Even the most beautiful rose has its thorns-
So, invalidate the thorns, but relish the rose.
The heart that shuns its mate, silently mourns.
Look into your heart, ask that it again expose
The amorous amative it now hides.
Banished to nihility, the shunned heart yet abides.
As the rose, true love is perennial:
It does not stray, die, wilt, or wither.
To ignore this call is hopeless self-denial-
Look now to your own; dare deny it lives not, thither!
poem by Maurice Harris
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An Ordinary Man
I am an ordinary man, humbled by an extraordinary beauty;
To celebrate my exalt with the world-my solemn duty!
A gifting only God's omnipotence could deliver;
A beauty causal to my heart's perpetual quiver-
Lo, my reverence for same doth gladden and inspire,
At long last, my heart and soul's mate-and true admire!
I no longer query its form, nor do I, its existence-
I simply revel and grow stronger, through its subsistence!
I am but a man, yet am witness to a Heavenly Truth-
Its verity is inescapably inspiring, you needn't sleuth;
Indubitably, all the world sings for her, in jubilation,
As they too, bear witness to my soul's celebration!
Mere lyric is bereft of sentiment, proper, but to say
I am a most fortuitous man, and am more so, every day!
Maurice Harris,25 February 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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No Adequate Explanation
I have no adequate explanation-
I just know-because my heart tells me!
As though in a state of suspended animation,
I wait, and shall, because my heart tells me! !
They say there is a mate for each-
I say mine is you, because I feel it in my soul!
No sacrifice is too much, which leads me within your reach-
I know-because I feel it in my heart, which you stole!
I have no doubts, we are a Divine truth-
You know-because your heart tells you so;
I just believe, I need no form of proof-
You believe-because your heart tells you so!
I know it is but a matter of where, when or how-
Yet, because my mind tells me so, I wish it were now!
Maurice Harris,3 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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An Angel Appeared, Again
I asked God to send me an Angel, and He did;
Perhaps afeared of Her own status, She hid
When I told Her that I adore Her;
She appeared again-so, here we are-
She before me, and I, before Her;
Though neither of us may see quite that far,
We both now seem willing to embrace our combined futurity
As pre-destined to gift the jollity we ardently desire!
Perhaps it is a sign of our new-found maturity,
That neither of us are afraid to express what our hearts admire!
I love someone, and because of same, set Her free;
Now I pray, that in His wisdom, He will let Her be
The one about which my heart has foretold-
The one upon which my mind ruminated, and my spirit extolled,
As the singularly unique mate, for my embattled soul;
The only one who may pick up the pieces, to make me whole!
God, in His infinite wisdom, only knows,
As my curiosity about same, only grows!
If I but could expose Her to my heart's ardor,
Then I might garner more clout in this amorous barter!
These thoughts are too much; the dubiety, too great-
I wish too know all now, not to hesitate
And wait, for it all to unfold, before me!
I need for the embrace of the Angel who does adore me!
Angel, beautificently inspired, if You may hear me,
Answer my prayers and avow You want to be near me!
Tell me that, at long last, the wait is over, and the time, nigh-
For our hearts to consort, and our souls to ally!
poem by Maurice Harris
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Allow The Descent
In order to fall in love, you must allow the descent-
To be given away, your heart needs your mind's consent;
To be truly loved, you need to graciously recieve it-
Love contrariwise, is the gift of your own heart-you leave it
With the one who has uplifted and absquatulated it:
Does not, your love, belong to the one who created it! ? !
Love with all you have, as you possess naught else-
Love devoutly, unabashedly-not to wonder what else
There may be, to garner thine amorous affection:
Love, as naught else, offers a puissant self-protection.
Love is truly its own wondrous reward-
Love is the only road where you are never detoured;
Listen beloved, as love, for you, doth call-
Allow yourself to love, and along the way, enjoy the fall!
-Maurice Harris,25 March 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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This Ardor Is My Strength
I met my love as a child, afeared and unaware;
Now I see that my love has always been right 'there'-
I loved her then and I love her evermore, still-
Surely, I always have and I always, always will!
I know she loves me, because my heart tells me its true;
I know she calls for me, as surely as I call for her too-
This is all I need, I want for no further attestation-
My heart has been calling, I accept its invitation!
I wait no longer, my destiny has arrived, at long last-
I take leave of this place, to remain only in my past-
My home is where my heart has been for so very long,
I must provide wings for this love-its calling, so very strong!
This ardor is my strength, my truth, my light-which leads my way-
The glow of which becomes ever more resplendent every single day!
Maurice Harris,31 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Explication Proper
Explication proper, mere words do yet clutter:
Wondrous memories fill my heart, to my very soul-
Each time mine eyes lain upon yours, fall it did aflutter;
Causal to the virtues your beautificence doth extol!
Sights and sounds, once ordinary, even mundane,
Now strangely more beautiful and melodious-
It was thought my heart's love would be in vain,
I see now- it is strong, resilient and commodious!
Do not be afraid of the amity that does everlast-
It shall be requited in kind, this I avow to you:
Be now secure, your future is made from your past-
My fragile, yet loving heart- I offer now to you!
All that which is worth loving, surely inspires fear-
Alas, that which is love, resides for you right here!
Maurice Harris,3 August 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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A Life, Lived Alone
What good is a life, lived alone,
With no one to share the adventure?
This is a 'failure', for which I need to atone;
But, I will not assent, until I am sure
That the lady meets all the needs
Of my heart, soul, and mind-
My want to love more than I do myself impedes
The 'progress' that causes others to leave behind
All of their hopes and dreams, to settle for less!
I refuse! Perhaps I will fall prey to my own stubborn pride-
What will happen is anyone's guess,
But this has been my stance since the day I died!
I am not here to collect relationships-I am here
To find a mate for my soul, and to do so, without fear!
Maurice Harris,24 July 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Grace Of God
It is but for the Grace of God I pen this-
Not so very long ago, I was asked to begin this
Life anew-as though one of His Children, reborn;
Now, I am Blessed with proof, which doth adorn
Mine own, once-ceased, fragile heart;
I know this to be His way to impart
To me and the rest of the world entire, a message:
As for hope, faith, and love-He is the last vestige
Of all that is pure and good in this world-
In His own image, mine shall e'er be unfurled
For all to see, as means by which to recompense this wondrous gift
Of new-found life, now and ever causal to the uplift
Of mine heart, mind, and inspired soul;
I know not if I've accomplished same, yet, this is my goal!
It is but through the Grace of God, and God alone
That I possess the very strength I do now own;
Prescience of same hath been gifted to all
Since the day when I nearly answered His Call
To come Home, at long last, to be among
His other Children, where I belong;
I was not ready; my presence was not then needed-
Though His Call I would have gladly heeded.
His purpose was to ready me for what is to come,
So that when all seemed to be lost, I would not succumb
To weakness and despair when I need be strong-
Nor to impatience, where the road is long.
'Thank You Heavenly Father, for the love You saw to provide;
For the Strength You gifted; for how You saw to decide
That I was so very important that You would guide me-
Not from above, in back, or in front-but beside me! '
-Maurice Harris,19 March 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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