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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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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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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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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This Glory, Now Returned
Obligation owed the fates: once again and, I pray-forever more,
I consort with this sublime beauty I do so very much adore!
I know not proper quittance for this glory, now returned;
My life now so affirmatively altered, more than I could have discerned!
Naught is there, in the form of sacrifice, too much
Which should see me nearer to her loving touch;
I am a humbled appreciant of her amazing grace,
I now live a blessed life as such, which naught could replace!
Though, one day, even this beatitude shall find supplant-
To this resplendency and all it engenders, I remain allegiant!
The life-long, all-consuming search hath reached its destination;
I invite the world, entire, to join with me in my heart's celebration-
See as I do, the beauty to whose felicity, I shall devote my life;
Once assured that we are prime for such, I shall ask she be my wife!
Maurice Harris,21 May 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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The Pleasance Of Thine Gaze
If pure beauty ever had a more true manifestation,
I know not its form, nor its very ideation-
Ponderance of same has been thusly, banished-
As my want for else long ago vanished.
My most ardent desires lie in its appreciation:
This humble heart seeks thine, for life-long adoration;
Somniation allows that I may, in glimpses, continue to gather-
Still, this ardor's puissant presence, I would much rather.
Should hope and faith have been all that were needed,
Long, long ago, this intermittence would have ceded
To ubiquity, and a dream would have been realized;
Therein lies the cause for mine sight: to drink in thine eyes;
There is not enough time, in a lifetime of days,
To satiate mine want for the pleasance of thine gaze!
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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St. Valentine's Day (2010)
My beloved-upon this day of love's celebration,
I must attempt to explicate, my heart's elation!
I now live, cause be to you, and in each and every way
As though every moment were always St. Valentine's Day!
Mine own heart brims with jollity, whence there may be
Thought of a future wherest you are nearer still, to me;
All is tangible, to ensure the same meets with reality-
A future, where unity is made from our current duality!
Surely as I know the place you hold, in mine own mind,
We two should each be made far greater, whence combined!
You are the beauteous answer to a complex, life-long vexation;
The singular, glorious cause, for my heart's jubilant celebration!
You, and you alone, could give rise to such magnificent emotion-
I shall attempt recompense for same, with offer of my life-long devotion!
Your's is a beauty, so rarified, as to be unprecendented-
Imagine if you will, my utter amazement, when it re-presented;
Perchance, my beloved, should you not have cause to believe-
Your's is a beauty, even my imagination could not conceive!
Lest you think me to be overly fanciful in my fervent felicity,
I must remind thee of thine own beauty's splendiferous simplicity:
Your honesty, both with self and others, clements compassion;
Your kindness, wit and charm are plentiful and without ration;
Your heart's fidelity is unquestionable, there, for the world to behold;
Your maternal spirit is without equal and by others, extolled;
This is without mention of your obvious physical beauty,
Though, the glorification of same is too, my solemn duty!
I am forever endebted to thee for what you have gifted-
My fragile, yet giving, heart hath been wondrously uplifted!
I may have to endeavor, for my whole life, entire,
To return the favor of your heart's abiding desire;
Yet, I shall indeed, with much love, and in ways, myriad-
For as long as I may be blessed to live, and longer still-period!
Nary shall a day fleet, whence there is even but the smallest doubt,
That your pleasance doth beatify all, glory would diminish without
You, and all you endue-your resplendence surely captivates
And always shall, mine own life enriched, obligation owed the Fates!
One day perhaps, my love, you shall live ebullient, as I-
Enamored, contrariwise, as your love grows more and more nigh!
Perchance, my beloved, to expound even further still-
Should you allow them, all your hopes and dreams shall fulfill!
Come live thine glorious life, intertwined with mine-
Live each day, as though each day were St. Valentine!
Maurice Harris,4 February 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Bereft of Explication Proper...
Bereft of explication proper would I be to define,
Every aspect of your essence- of your presence, divine!
Remiss would I be yet, if but an attempt valiant, were not taken-
Alas, causative are thee- for my soul has awakened!
Most fitting, appareled are thee in locks aflame:
For I am enamored- and you are virtuously, to blame!
Coupled is this, with oculus the most resplendent blue:
I am enraptured replete, obligation owed their hue!
Serenity, beautificence- but two words toward articulation,
Many more needed still though for proper delimitation!
The Heavens surely smile upon thee, and all you touch-
Intimate not all do I, yet know surely do I this much!
Know not could I a more fitting homage than to expound,
The world- far more felicitous, because you are around!
Maurice Harris,21 March 2009
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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Daughter's Vexation, Father's Explication and Idealization
Stanza I-Vexation
Where were you Daddy, when I turned one,
I want for your approval, yet there is none?
Where again were you, when I turned two?
I am right here Daddy, but where are you?
Each day I repeat: 'I miss Daddy-maybe before
The day's done, he will come though the door...'!
Do you not love me Daddy, why are you not here?
Why do you not comfort me, when I am in fear?
I need your hand in mine as I cross the street;
I want to show my Daddy to all the people I meet;
Where are you when I need to be tucked into bed?
When I fall, why are you not here to kiss my forehead?
But, you said I was the most important person in the world!
I do not understand Daddy, I thought I was your little girl! ?
Stanza II-Explication
My beloved, precious Angel-naught is there to your compare;
I have coffered in mine own heart all days we did share-
Thoughts of thee permeate to my very soul, lo, deeper still,
My absence from your life is not, surely, of my own free will!
If proffered a choice, ne'er would thee need for want,
Alas, purloined from each, each day since, still does haunt!
Many a wretched day, many a woeful, wretched night
Have I longed for thee to be within my very sight!
No measure of quittance would surely e'er answer
That which was taken, nor requite for this cancer!
Perchance, if but allowed to sleep e'er, to somniate-
This realm permits me leave, a paragon to create;
If only allowance could be made for you always to aspire,
Then only might thee gather amply, mine own unfeigned desire!
Stanza III-Idealization
Affected not would we be thus, e'er all to be as should,
Ne'er would we have cause for absence, misunderstood!
Revel with thee, would I, and share in your glory,
Full recital then, for each chapter of your story;
My approval would obviate with every bespoken word,
'I love you my Princess! ', your last words each night, heard!
Your gallant protector, from all means or form of fright,
I would lovingly lie you down to sleep, each and every night!
Your hand, interlaced with mine, whensoever we may prance;
Each day more causal still to marvel at your grace and elegance!
Jollity your constant consort, your most beauteous gift to the world,
Ever more splendid, ever more resplendent, as to you it is unfurled!
The world would be at your beckon, for only you to decide-
Watch would I, with wonderment and a Fatherly sense of pride!
Maurice Harris,25 October 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Mine Eyes Beg Sight Of Thee
Mine eyes beg sight of thee; mine mind begs, thought;
Mine heart begs consort with thee-for us to be what we ought;
Mine arms beg thine own body, in loving embrace-
Contrariwise, mine own body begs of same, face to face!
Mine own soul begs for thine, as its mate-
Our re-acquaintance made as was, through the powers of fate;
Mine whole life begs for thine own beauty's attestation:
As I bide still, I ruminate upon my futurity's celebration.
Until this time, when we shall meet my beloved, fair thee well:
May we both one day be the story that we lovingly tell.
All that I am begs for all that you are-
In a world with myriad resplendence, you are its brightest star!
Query not why it is that I covet thee as I do,
Ponder only: that in the morrow, more of same shall be gifted, to you!
poem by Maurice Harris
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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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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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Sunshine
Plagued by iniquity was I, until sunlight was offered to me
Nary may I extend recompense for what has been bestowed
From whence so much has been given, so too, so much is owed
Demonstrative of His omniscience, this, He proffered to me:
A gift sans pareil of radiant replendence, in human form-
A lasting brilliance, surely ne'er to wither nor to pall,
Alas, solace is provided as if to ease the fall,
Provide for inspiration, and ensure my soul's warmth!
Celestial magnanimity, love eternal and spirit pure
Define surely, the essence of her prescient import!
Naught shall there be to absent my majestic consort,
Upon our love's genesis, evident was the allure! !
Sunshine- a mere word falters to delimitate your essence;
An honor it has been, surely, I am humbled in your presence!
Maurice Harris,14 March 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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To Mine Heart's Captor
To mine heart's captor: thou knowest who for art thou!
With its absquatulation complete, what art thine plans now?
Art thine intentions altruistic and pure-
May thine jollity, these intentions, ensure?
Might thine heart be exalted in consort with mine?
If thee were to seek its consult, how would it opine?
Love knows not impediments, it lasts and grows forever;
Come with me, my beloved, we shall live this truth, together!
Have not thee thought of me, fondly, in mine absence?
The gift of our love is proof of His Divine Benevolence!
Walk this journey called life with me by thine side;
Mine unceasing love shall always, and e'er, be supplied-
For so long as thou art enamored by this offer;
First though, you need remove thine heart from its coffer!
-Maurice Harris,16 May 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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She Is My Heavenly Proffer
Perhaps once in thine own life, if truly fortuitous,
Ye shall gain privity to a beauty, as I, whose glorious
Resplendence shines-as a beacon, through all my hours-
A beauty so rarified it doth astound and overpowers
The senses at times! Though she doth dwell many a mile
From whence I am, still, I am greeted at all times-by her smile!
Should my life's flame be doused, right here and now,
I shan't have cause to aspire further-as this I avow:
I have glimpsed Heaven-in her eyes, it doth reside-
Not to speak slight of the Empyrean Kingdom, nor deride;
I have seen her truth, and simply must, to it, attest;
She is cause for me to know, I am most and truly blessed!
No matter of love or affection shall serve to suffice-no, not nearly;
Nothing shall ever be proper grace for the one I love most dearly!
My life until now hath been wanton of a love worthy of what I have to offer-
No longer need I search for same, obligation owed to God's greatest proffer!
Our consort was a divine providence, of this, you may be assured;
My soul hath now its compeer; My heart's everlasting guard, secured!
I must see this glory e'er closer still-to this end, I shall do what I must;
All my hopes and dreams-all the faith I have in my heart-to her, I do entrust!
'Lord, as Thou hast given unto me, this magnificent, glorious covenant,
I shall endeavor dutifully to pay it proper honor, as I remain allegiant! '
My amorous wonderment knows not bound, whence she is concerned-
For she doth embody all that for which my life, entire, I have yearned!
As this singularly magnificent night gives way to the dawn of a new day,
There is but one truth I know and shall endeavor evermore, to convey:
She is my Heavenly proffer, given unto me as proof of His divine inspiration-
She-the solitary source of my mind, heart and soul's panoply of elation!
Maurice Harris,24 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Minister
DIM thro' the sculptured aisles the sunbeam falls
More like a dream
Of some imagined beam,
Than actual daylight over mortal walls.
A strain of music like the rushing wind,
But deep and sweet
As when the waters meet
In one mysterious harmony combined.
So swells the mighty organ, rich and full,
As if it were the soul
Which raised the glorious whole
Of that fair building, vast and wonderful.
Doth not the spirit feel its influence,
All vain and feverish care,
All thoughts that worldly are,
Strife, tumult, mirth, and fear are vanished hence.
The world is put aside, within the heart
Those hopes arise
Thrice sacred mysteries,
In which our earthly nature has no part.
Oh, Christian Fane, the soul expands in thee,
Thine altar and thy tomb
Speak of the hope and doom
Which leads and cheers man to eternity.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Why dost thou Shade thy Lovely Face?
1 Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? Oh, why
2 Does that eclipsing hand so long deny
3 The sunshine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye?
4 Without that light, what light remains in me?
5 Thou art my life, my way, my light; in thee
6 I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.
7 Thou art mv life; if thou but turn away
8 My life's a thousand deaths: thou art my way;
9 Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray.
10 My light thou art; without thy glorious sight
11 Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night.
12 My God, thou art my way, my life, my light.
13 Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly:
14 Thou art my light; if hid, how blind am I!
15 Thou art my life; if thou withdraw, I die.
16 Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see;
17 To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
18 But to the light? and who's that light but thee?
19 My path is lost, my wand'ring steps do stray;
20 I cannot safely go, nor safely stay;
21 Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?
22 Oh, I am dead: to whom shall I, poor I,
23 Repair? to whom shall my sad ashes fly,
24 But life? and where is life but in thine eye?
25 And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me;
26 And yet I sue for grace, and thou deny'st me;
27 Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only try'st me?
28 Unscreen those heavenly lamps, or tell me why
29 Thou shad'st thy face; perhaps thou think'st no eye
30 Can view those flames, and not drop down and die.
31 If that be all, shine forth, and draw thee nigher;
32 Let me behold and die, for my desire
33 Is ph{oe}nix-like to perish in that fire.
34 Death-conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by thee;
35 If I am dead, Lord, set death's prisoner free;
36 Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he?
37 If my puff'd life be out, give leave to tine
38 My shameless snuff at that bright lamp of thine;
39 Oh, what's thy light the less for lighting mine?
40 If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say,
41 Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?
42 Lord, shall a lamb of Israel's sheep-fold stray?
43 Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye,
44 The dead man's life; on thee my hopes rely;
45 If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die.
46 Disclose thy sunbeams; close thy wings, and stay;
47 See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray,
48 O thou, that art my light, my life, my way.
poem by Francis Quarles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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