Albert Oxford
Surrey , UK
Albert OxfordSurrey , UK |
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Verse is a medium which lends itself to the expression of thoughts and emotions in few words. This is its great appeal to me because I am always torn between two, outwardly contradictory, needs: the desire to share my feelings and the fear of betraying too much. Consequently, my work usually presents quite ordinary topics in a disguised or cryptic fashion, through still in the hope that it will provoke some response from like minded readers. Primarily, I write for myself as an outlet of emotions that I cannot readily display in other ways. |
Merely SorrowingThat was merely half the talked, when we went forth in threesThe moon so full, your love so rich And our joy all in all with these. Low as the wind and pale the stars that wandered through our sky Our hope was round like a candle flame And a flame glowed bright in your eye. That was merely a taste of love and we sensed it augured feast and we both slipped fast into thralldom's net Nor chose to be released. But that was just the first of steps and all went down and down We both were robbed for both were thieves Free in a doorless town. But that was merely a glance at theft, a hint of what would pass My image with your image moved Both locked in a cell like glass. But that was a mirror that gave not back, nor beam nor glimpse to tell The tale of the price at which we bought Or the honour that we should sell. These were merely the crumbs and husks that fell from our table's lip and I kissed your mouth and you kissed my mouth How bitter did we sip. Though that was merely the thought of the deed, with the deed itself not done And you ran to me and I ran to you For where else could we run For where would haven for us be found, free of our miseries Yet we knew it need not be like this If we'd not gone forth in threes. Thus I watched you search with vain appeal in dismal woods to find me With your face all care and time too short And your hair too short to bind me But this was merely my anguished heart that woke from a too brief rest And I was troubled that you did not know Sad that you had not guessed That the gathering together was over at last and the solace we hoped to know Was lost in the sundering now at hand Though I swear that I loved you so. But that was merely the whim of a whim for I turned and walked away Fell victim to my own unease Was my own too yielding prey. But I learned from truth and I learned from lies, yes, I learned from both of these That if I should venture forth again I should not go in threes. |