darkly in amber

 
she was a candle in the wind
that flared into a torch song
she takes the fine art of loving
and puts it where it doesn’t belong

by the tears of the moon
by the fire of a distant star
strange is the passion that melds us
a strange creature we are

a sorrow embraced as a lover
the thorn that perished the rose
how darkly through myriad amber
how twisted these poems we compose

the dust as it soils her footprints
the rain as it washes her hair
were she a desire abstained
were I less beautiful to bear

if love were the tower of Babel
the minstrels would linger upon it
we wander like eidolons solivagant
and all for the lack of a sonnet…


(Art: Ergy Landau)