because sometimes the rules of grammar & poetics & verse just don't apply to me

So I think I'm a pretty good writer. I think I'm pretty smooth with words sometimes.. & then God hits me. Today I was listening & looking over some of the most poetic, awe-filled, thrilling text ever written. Do you know what it is? It is the Song of Solomon, as found in the Holy Bible. Solomon had IT in his day.. he knew how to compliment a woman! Now, I'm sure some of his metaphors wouldn't do so well now.. but in his day saying a girl was like a dove, had all her teeth (sorry West Virginia women) or was like a horse.. seemed to be a good place to start. After reading some of that stuff & just listening to things on it a lot.. how could I not go for some spontaneous riffing on love?

Here we go.....



To what great thing might I liken this love,

is it the sun or the moon or the oceans great floors?

No, love could never be the sun, for it never blinds

& always illuminates the soul searching all darkness far & wide..

in order that it may be brought to the light!



& rest assured, it could never be the moon, for the moon

is only full but seldom & love is always full, fuller than full

of the most lofty words used to describe her even in this!



& stand affirmed that she is definitely deeper than ocean floors,

yet filled with peace, marked through & through with sands of

diamonds & pearls of the gleaming oyster's hue!



Purer than time of the baby's birth..

Purer than grammar of the language of God's birth!

There is neither Greek, nor gentile.. nor friend nor foe!

There is neither weak one, or meek man.. or strong man alone!



NO this is the love that unites us all,

and to this love I will liken the hair of the bride.

And to this I will liken the thrills of the past loves, divine.



The love that will compel me to break down all the walls,

The love that will compel me to stand so straight & so tall,

The love that will compel me to break these rules of common verse

that the poets set before me.. & still I won't rehearse..



It is a spontaneous, it is a moment,

It is a glimmer into the sun.

It is to travel, it is two oceans,

but formed together to make us one.



Where WE claim to live as separates, but in reality were always one.

& WE claim to eat fine dinners, but now our real wine & feasting comes.



When the lover is his.. & his is the wine,

the choicest drink from the choicest vine.

When the lover is his.. & his is the bride,

Must we part our ways & tell the sum of our crimes?



IT is for the best, IT is but for a time.

IT is for the best, know this, true love of mine..

as it stops & it starts & it dashes & darts in sparks

But for softness of her hand, I trade this fire in for her heart.