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Whispers on the Wind
- Whispers on the Wind -
Whispers on the wind tell me oft of things,
I should not heed, but hear the calling of.
The warmth of day, what light it so brings,
That whispers unto me of forbidden love!
What enchantment hath ensnared me well?
The flowers carry it, and the trees know…
Secrets even unknown to deep-most Hell,
Carried, wherever the wind must to blow.
On the bones of winter spring is in bloom,
And I feel ensorcelled by all of its’ colors.
The world seems risen from a gray tomb…
With myriad a delight, that ever shimmers.
Yet it pales, it pales with my heart’s flame,
Kindled by a longing which I cannot say…
A secret longing for which I feel no shame.
Yet I speak it not, either by night or day!
The wind’s whispers alone I have told all,
They and the ravens know all my secrets.
I should not heed, but hear fiercely a call,
Like, the tapping: of rain’s moist droplets.
One I had loved, betrayed me cruel,
And I told no one that this happened.
She shares my bed, thinks me a fool,
And believes my heart, is her captive.
But my heart is mine to give, as I will,
To one more worthy and more dear…
Who will not leave me feeling so chill!
How long until my fair one draws near?
Walking down a trail not many days past,
I saw very many sights of natural beauty…
But they held me not as if in sorcery cast!
For to me, they were not as lovely as she.
Lovelier, than the white birch tress so tall,
More magical than blossoms in a breeze…
Is the one so holds my heart rapt in thrall!
When didst such passions, my soul seize?
It begins with compassion, kindred spirit,
Between two hearts even if living distant!
Bonds grow; time draws things near to it,
Nearer to something deeper than meant…
But not unwelcome, even if it is suddenly:
More than the heart had at first expected.
Perhaps it is simply the power of destiny?
Or is it the evolution of a love perfected…
From a simpler form into truer devotions,
And even to she, I have not spoken fully.
Not embarked entire upon those oceans,
Which even now, so madly captivate me.
We two art flowers in a sad garden,
Each broken-hearted due to deceit…
As the heart’s prison hath no warden.
Oh how I long for thee oh my sweet!
To comfort thee and be comforted…
Until our pasts fade into bright ethers.
Thou art like a Beatrice and unsaid…
Is the extent of my love, free of fetters!
Welcome is the night, but even its’ deep,
Reminds me of the forbidden love I bear.
The moon, and stars, my longings keep…
Whilst no sleep eases for me every care!
Dreams descend, and dreams then fade,
Dispelled by the sun that rises with dawn.
Yet my yearning for her, in sun or shade,
Makes of me passion’s oft-willing pawn.
A black rose indeed is what I ever was…
Petals and thorns aplenty, and so fragile!
How didst I grow into such flower thus?
A flower, of chaos: in a world oft sterile.
I love her so much; it tears me up inside,
And the wind whispers to me, her name.
Even from where she doth distant abide,
I long for her, as my heart burns aflame!
She too is a flower, of far different hue…
But dear to me: grown dearer by hours.
It began as a love, becoming most true,
And I feel helpless, before such powers.
Canst a wind speak, of all it carries?
Like how blossoms and pollen float…
Across the air, free of mortal worries.
It knows, much, yet never will gloat…
For the wind is wise, but very lonely.
I cannot be as the wind; I am as fire!
A black rose, with the rose’s dignity.
Watered by love, whilst fed by desire!
Whispers on the wind tell me oft of things,
I should not heed, but hear the calling of.
The warmth of day, what light it so brings,
That whispers unto me of forbidden love!
What enchantment hath ensnared me well?
The flowers carry it, and the trees know…
Secrets even unknown to deep-most Hell,
Carried, wherever the wind must to blow.
On the bones of winter spring is in bloom,
And I feel ensorcelled by all of its’ colors.
The world seems risen from a gray tomb…
With myriad a delight, that ever shimmers.
Yet it pales, it pales with my heart’s flame,
Kindled by a longing which I cannot say…
A secret longing for which I feel no shame.
Yet I speak it not, either by night or day!
The wind’s whispers alone I have told all,
They and the ravens know all my secrets.
I should not heed, but hear fiercely a call,
Like, the tapping: of rain’s moist droplets.
One I had loved, betrayed me cruel,
And I told no one that this happened.
She shares my bed, thinks me a fool,
And believes my heart, is her captive.
But my heart is mine to give, as I will,
To one more worthy and more dear…
Who will not leave me feeling so chill!
How long until my fair one draws near?
Walking down a trail not many days past,
I saw very many sights of natural beauty…
But they held me not as if in sorcery cast!
For to me, they were not as lovely as she.
Lovelier, than the white birch tress so tall,
More magical than blossoms in a breeze…
Is the one so holds my heart rapt in thrall!
When didst such passions, my soul seize?
It begins with compassion, kindred spirit,
Between two hearts even if living distant!
Bonds grow; time draws things near to it,
Nearer to something deeper than meant…
But not unwelcome, even if it is suddenly:
More than the heart had at first expected.
Perhaps it is simply the power of destiny?
Or is it the evolution of a love perfected…
From a simpler form into truer devotions,
And even to she, I have not spoken fully.
Not embarked entire upon those oceans,
Which even now, so madly captivate me.
We two art flowers in a sad garden,
Each broken-hearted due to deceit…
As the heart’s prison hath no warden.
Oh how I long for thee oh my sweet!
To comfort thee and be comforted…
Until our pasts fade into bright ethers.
Thou art like a Beatrice and unsaid…
Is the extent of my love, free of fetters!
Welcome is the night, but even its’ deep,
Reminds me of the forbidden love I bear.
The moon, and stars, my longings keep…
Whilst no sleep eases for me every care!
Dreams descend, and dreams then fade,
Dispelled by the sun that rises with dawn.
Yet my yearning for her, in sun or shade,
Makes of me passion’s oft-willing pawn.
A black rose indeed is what I ever was…
Petals and thorns aplenty, and so fragile!
How didst I grow into such flower thus?
A flower, of chaos: in a world oft sterile.
I love her so much; it tears me up inside,
And the wind whispers to me, her name.
Even from where she doth distant abide,
I long for her, as my heart burns aflame!
She too is a flower, of far different hue…
But dear to me: grown dearer by hours.
It began as a love, becoming most true,
And I feel helpless, before such powers.
Canst a wind speak, of all it carries?
Like how blossoms and pollen float…
Across the air, free of mortal worries.
It knows, much, yet never will gloat…
For the wind is wise, but very lonely.
I cannot be as the wind; I am as fire!
A black rose, with the rose’s dignity.
Watered by love, whilst fed by desire!
Published 28th May 2015
| Edited 3rd Jun 2015
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28th May 2015 1:32am
"I love her so much; it tears me up inside,
And the wind whispers to me, her name.
Even from where she doth distant abide,
I long for her, as my heart burns aflame! "
How beautiful. You always describe your feelings so well. And how lucky the object of desire ...to be loved such.:) Good read dear Jessica.
And the wind whispers to me, her name.
Even from where she doth distant abide,
I long for her, as my heart burns aflame! "
How beautiful. You always describe your feelings so well. And how lucky the object of desire ...to be loved such.:) Good read dear Jessica.
28th May 2015 9:27pm
I am very happy you like this poem of mine, dear Grace! It really was a very beautiful write. I’ve had several moments like this in my life over the years, when I was in very bad relationships and pining for something much more profound, more real, and more perfect than what the person I was with had to offer. This poem wasn’t so much written about any one specific such moment like that per se, but rather it was deliberately penned in a slightly vague way in order to convey my feelings from all such moments, and to immortalize that longing and yearning for love that has always been, and will ever be, very much a part of my passionate spirit and romantic soul. You picked a good segment to quote there too… it really does capture that passionate fire that is so very much a part of my nature! :)
