To Trevor Helm, in homage.
O brother mine, in bonds not born but made,
Thy spirit's kinship doth my heart persuade.
For were I granted choice of blood to choose,
Thy soul alike, no other would I muse.
Let not despair thy hopeful quest deter,
For love, in patience, finds those who prefer.
The day shall dawn when thou, by fate, art paired,
With one whose heart as generously shared.
A companion true, who sees thee as thou art,
Inspires greatness, plays no actor's part.
Seeks naught but presence, thine own self to be,
In such a union, two souls shall fly free.
Home then becomes not place, but state of heart,
Where from, thou and thine, shall never part.
-2024 February
|
My Nobler Moiety.
In thine own abyss of darkest hue, where ne'er a wave doth crest, Where day is cloaked in velvet night, in solemn stillness dressed. Yet even there, mine eyes perceive thy form, 'gainst dimness wrought, Thou art the sun, the celestial fire, around which my soul is caught. Our days are clad in evening's garb, our time akin to death, Yet in this dusky dance, I spy thee, with bated breath. Thy sorrow's weave doth fascinate, thy anguish kindles flame, In thy depth of feeling, any touch, be it joy or be it pain. I'll not abide by thy return to common, lightened states, Nay, let melancholy be thy cloak, and at Death's portal wait. Whilst others may forget thy name, in oblivion's cruel sea, Remembered thou shalt be by me, in dark's eternity. Yet thou sailest on, unbeknownst, thou art illumination's core, As radiant as Helios' chariot, thy heat to all doth pour. Thy voice, a stream of melodic grace, in tranquil tunes it flows, But in the grasp of avarice's hands, peace finds but foes. -2019 |
Eclipse of the Solitary Sun In shadows deep where whispers dwell, Thou art the silent, glowing orb, A lonesome sun whose rays compel, The dark to cloak, the light to absorb. Though lost in capitalism's sullen sea, Thy spirit rebels 'gainst the silent night, Illumining depths where none would be, A beacon of unyielding, radiant light. Thy sorrow is the music of thine soul, A melancholic tune, so pure, so free, In this world's play, thou play'st thy role, Yet perfect, James, thou art to me. -2024 |
Ode: They depart hence, whilst I stand firm in continuance.
As others depart, 'tis I who must stay,
In the quietude where thoughts alone do play.
Surrounded by echoes of yesteryears' cheer,
In solitude's embrace, I confront the past so dear.
Like countless souls before, who've walked this earthly stage,
We dwell in vast throngs, yet isolation is our cage.
For all shall part and leave, like leaves on autumn's sway,
While I endure, in silent commune with the day.
In the vein of poets past, Melinani King's verses are cast., Anno Domini 2024
As others depart, 'tis I who must stay,
In the quietude where thoughts alone do play.
Surrounded by echoes of yesteryears' cheer,
In solitude's embrace, I confront the past so dear.
Like countless souls before, who've walked this earthly stage,
We dwell in vast throngs, yet isolation is our cage.
For all shall part and leave, like leaves on autumn's sway,
While I endure, in silent commune with the day.
In the vein of poets past, Melinani King's verses are cast., Anno Domini 2024
This work doth honor those I hold dear, lost to time yet ever near; and too, those bereft, whom kindred spirits have left. In our hearts, their memory doth shine, cherished forever in this humble line.
O ye souls departed, once our all in all,
We mourn your absence, in our minds ye dwell;
Though years may wane and memories may pall,
Your impact deep within our hearts doth swell.
We must draw breath, consume our daily bread,
Continue on this mortal coil to tread.
Each tick of time may heavier seem than last,
Yet comes anon a day less filled with grief.
Not that we forget, but memories vast
Of what ye were, bring us some sweet relief.
Ye gave us much, to our small world a boon,
And in our thoughts, ye shall not vanish soon.
Arise, draw breath, let not your spirits sink,
Our journey's path is yet for us to carve.
Though absence makes the heart in sorrow drink,
We must stand fast, our courage not to starve.
Their counsel wise, let's bear it in our mind,
For each will join the fellowship in kind.
Support we must, the shattered shards of fate,
For even broken pieces joined as one
May make us whole, our spirits to elate,
And lift us toward the heavens, toward the sun.
In honor deep, to loved ones lost, we cleave,
And those who share our loss, in love we grieve:
Edward, Rose, and Annie, names so dear,
Clarise and Karen, in our heart's small sphere,
Lisa, Melynda, Ronald’s names resound,
With Jeremy, Jackie, and Jahna we are bound.
Aaron and Kenneth, all to memory king,
In this our song of love and loss we sing.
With ink and heart, so pours forth the art of Melinani King,
a scribe of modern part.
O ye souls departed, once our all in all,
We mourn your absence, in our minds ye dwell;
Though years may wane and memories may pall,
Your impact deep within our hearts doth swell.
We must draw breath, consume our daily bread,
Continue on this mortal coil to tread.
Each tick of time may heavier seem than last,
Yet comes anon a day less filled with grief.
Not that we forget, but memories vast
Of what ye were, bring us some sweet relief.
Ye gave us much, to our small world a boon,
And in our thoughts, ye shall not vanish soon.
Arise, draw breath, let not your spirits sink,
Our journey's path is yet for us to carve.
Though absence makes the heart in sorrow drink,
We must stand fast, our courage not to starve.
Their counsel wise, let's bear it in our mind,
For each will join the fellowship in kind.
Support we must, the shattered shards of fate,
For even broken pieces joined as one
May make us whole, our spirits to elate,
And lift us toward the heavens, toward the sun.
In honor deep, to loved ones lost, we cleave,
And those who share our loss, in love we grieve:
Edward, Rose, and Annie, names so dear,
Clarise and Karen, in our heart's small sphere,
Lisa, Melynda, Ronald’s names resound,
With Jeremy, Jackie, and Jahna we are bound.
Aaron and Kenneth, all to memory king,
In this our song of love and loss we sing.
With ink and heart, so pours forth the art of Melinani King,
a scribe of modern part.
Edward Kane
Edward Kane, of firmest mind, yet frail in flesh,
Dost thou feel the weight of each day's possible parting?
Thy trusty vessel, steadfast for nigh a century,
Doth now beseech a pause, a respite from its art'ry.
To be encaged within a nook so close,
Aware of life's grand play beyond thy chamber's keep.
Oh, how this solitary confine dost propose,
A bar 'gainst mirth, 'gainst love's embrace so deep.
Thy spirit, unbow'd, stands against time's cruel jest,
Whilst thy mortal coil no more partakes in life's sweet throng,
No more to hear, to speak, but in silent protest,
Perceiving but flickers of light, and echoes not of song.
Yet 'round thee, the press of kin doth gently tread,
Veiling their tears, their sorrows tenderly unsaid.
They waft through existence, thou sense their toil,
As memory doth thee to yesteryears' joys coil.
Thy form, once servant, now master of thy will,
Restrains thee, yet in thy breast, intellect unstill.
Penned by Melinani King, in year of '22's wane,
A testament to the mind's might, that ever shall remain.
Edward Kane, of firmest mind, yet frail in flesh,
Dost thou feel the weight of each day's possible parting?
Thy trusty vessel, steadfast for nigh a century,
Doth now beseech a pause, a respite from its art'ry.
To be encaged within a nook so close,
Aware of life's grand play beyond thy chamber's keep.
Oh, how this solitary confine dost propose,
A bar 'gainst mirth, 'gainst love's embrace so deep.
Thy spirit, unbow'd, stands against time's cruel jest,
Whilst thy mortal coil no more partakes in life's sweet throng,
No more to hear, to speak, but in silent protest,
Perceiving but flickers of light, and echoes not of song.
Yet 'round thee, the press of kin doth gently tread,
Veiling their tears, their sorrows tenderly unsaid.
They waft through existence, thou sense their toil,
As memory doth thee to yesteryears' joys coil.
Thy form, once servant, now master of thy will,
Restrains thee, yet in thy breast, intellect unstill.
Penned by Melinani King, in year of '22's wane,
A testament to the mind's might, that ever shall remain.
Anno Pestilentia MMXX, A Verse by Melinani
Cooks didst prepare sumptuous feasts aplenty,
Whilst younglings sketched on walls, unbound by any penalty.
The tutors did embrace the zoom with zest,
Whilst scholars bent o'er books with discontented chest.
The eating-houses wrought to set repast upon our boards,
Whilst common souls did bear sustenance, as able as the lords.
Artisans with eager hands did mould creation's varied guise,
Whilst all the globe did watch and mark each falter and unwise.
The chieftains held the orb's bright dreams within their grasp,
As scriveners penned what may and may not come to pass.
The minstrels sang, the players struck their chords,
All Earth a thrall to screens, by social nets ensnared and moored.
Upon the thoroughfares, the destitute lay bare,
The world drove past, heedless of their spare.
With paper rare and masks wrought by hand,
Neighbours met, erst strangers in the land.
The tale of our sphere, retold in endless refrain,
We err, and evermore, the earth inquires our gain.
When shall we heed, when shall we mold anew?
For aye the answer tarries, for man's nature holds no clue.
The creatures all evolve, yea, all but we,
Who cling to crowns, though storms portend calamity.
Now round again we go, a plea for wisdom's light,
Who shall rise as our best, who shall but fade from sight?
Penned this fifth of April, in the year two thousand score,
An epoch marked by trials, a chronicle of sore.
With ink and heart, so pours forth the art of Melinani King,
a scribe of modern part.
Cooks didst prepare sumptuous feasts aplenty,
Whilst younglings sketched on walls, unbound by any penalty.
The tutors did embrace the zoom with zest,
Whilst scholars bent o'er books with discontented chest.
The eating-houses wrought to set repast upon our boards,
Whilst common souls did bear sustenance, as able as the lords.
Artisans with eager hands did mould creation's varied guise,
Whilst all the globe did watch and mark each falter and unwise.
The chieftains held the orb's bright dreams within their grasp,
As scriveners penned what may and may not come to pass.
The minstrels sang, the players struck their chords,
All Earth a thrall to screens, by social nets ensnared and moored.
Upon the thoroughfares, the destitute lay bare,
The world drove past, heedless of their spare.
With paper rare and masks wrought by hand,
Neighbours met, erst strangers in the land.
The tale of our sphere, retold in endless refrain,
We err, and evermore, the earth inquires our gain.
When shall we heed, when shall we mold anew?
For aye the answer tarries, for man's nature holds no clue.
The creatures all evolve, yea, all but we,
Who cling to crowns, though storms portend calamity.
Now round again we go, a plea for wisdom's light,
Who shall rise as our best, who shall but fade from sight?
Penned this fifth of April, in the year two thousand score,
An epoch marked by trials, a chronicle of sore.
With ink and heart, so pours forth the art of Melinani King,
a scribe of modern part.
My Whole Existence
Unto James Hussein, in devotion penned,
Anno Domini, two score and one beyond.
All my life's span, some five and forty years,
In patient hope, for love's sweet balm I pined.
Such love as writ by poets and by seers,
That knows no bound of hours, nor is confined.
A love that fills each cranny of the soul,
With every breath drawn, it doth make whole.
A passion fierce, that in shared glance doth melt
Two hearts to one, in silent converse bound.
Until thy presence, in patience I dwelt,
For thee alone, my heart's true mate I found.
Each tick without thee, sharp as tragedy,
Each moment near, confirms our destiny.
The stars align, the cosmos doth agree,
Two sundered halves made whole, in thee I see.
Forsooth, my life, now five and forty years,
In expectation's shadow I abode.
Till time's expanse did bring my greatest fears
To sweet conclusion; in thy love, I glowed.
In the spirit of ages past, Melinani King, whose words shall last.
Unto James Hussein, in devotion penned,
Anno Domini, two score and one beyond.
All my life's span, some five and forty years,
In patient hope, for love's sweet balm I pined.
Such love as writ by poets and by seers,
That knows no bound of hours, nor is confined.
A love that fills each cranny of the soul,
With every breath drawn, it doth make whole.
A passion fierce, that in shared glance doth melt
Two hearts to one, in silent converse bound.
Until thy presence, in patience I dwelt,
For thee alone, my heart's true mate I found.
Each tick without thee, sharp as tragedy,
Each moment near, confirms our destiny.
The stars align, the cosmos doth agree,
Two sundered halves made whole, in thee I see.
Forsooth, my life, now five and forty years,
In expectation's shadow I abode.
Till time's expanse did bring my greatest fears
To sweet conclusion; in thy love, I glowed.
In the spirit of ages past, Melinani King, whose words shall last.
A Fortnight and Half, Ode to a Muse
In the span of nine and twenty days, she stirs the mind to thought,
And in her gaze, a fervor wakes, with inspiration fraught.
She brings to heart a feeling, lost for centuries in the deep,
As if she is all under Heaven; in her essence, all doth keep.
Her laugh doth chase the chill away, with warmth as from the hearth,
Her touch, a shiver through the soul, a testament to her worth.
She is both muse and hindrance, in her visage all is right,
A beacon 'gainst the shadows, in the world's uncertain night.
She stands as yet unwritten lore, a page untouched by time,
She is tomorrow drawing nigh, and yesteryear's sublime.
With her, the fleeting moments stretch to touch the edge of ever,
Endless as the stars that wheel, in the celestial river.
Penned this one and twentieth day of April, year 'nineteen,
An epoch writ in heartbeats, and in loves that might have been.
By the grace of muses old and new,
Melinani King presents this view.
In the span of nine and twenty days, she stirs the mind to thought,
And in her gaze, a fervor wakes, with inspiration fraught.
She brings to heart a feeling, lost for centuries in the deep,
As if she is all under Heaven; in her essence, all doth keep.
Her laugh doth chase the chill away, with warmth as from the hearth,
Her touch, a shiver through the soul, a testament to her worth.
She is both muse and hindrance, in her visage all is right,
A beacon 'gainst the shadows, in the world's uncertain night.
She stands as yet unwritten lore, a page untouched by time,
She is tomorrow drawing nigh, and yesteryear's sublime.
With her, the fleeting moments stretch to touch the edge of ever,
Endless as the stars that wheel, in the celestial river.
Penned this one and twentieth day of April, year 'nineteen,
An epoch writ in heartbeats, and in loves that might have been.
By the grace of muses old and new,
Melinani King presents this view.
Desire's Alchemy
Shouldst thou yearn to be struck by Cupid's dart,
Unlatch thy soul, let not thy heart be tart.
Shouldst thou crave the vast expanse to see,
Unclose thine eyes, let vision set thee free.
Shouldst thou wish to lend the world thine aid,
Stretch forth thine hand, let not thy zeal be stayed.
Shouldst thou seek to etch thy name 'neath heaven's vault,
Through art immortalize thy fleeting fault.
Shouldst wisdom's treasure be thy quest,
Then harken well, for listening's the test.
Shouldst thou need to fathom life's grand scheme,
In dreams and fancy find thy theme.
Shouldst longing for affection fill thy breast,
Give love, and be by love's sweet grace caressed.
Penned this five and twentieth day of January, in the year 'nineteen,
Where desires guide, let actions follow keen.
So penned under the moon's soft gleam, Melinani King,
in pursuit of a dream.
On the Nature of Desire
Home's comfort doth the taste impart,
As on my tongue, it strikes as if 'twere first depart.
In vain I seek to shun its siren call,
Yet like the moth to flame, to its allure I fall.
Anon, I'm drawn as if by opiate's chain,
Insatiate, ever craving, yet all in vain.
It wrings my being, and to the brink me brings,
Still, to this sweet torment, my soul clings.
To and fro, in ceaseless, restless strife,
I query why I cannot part with this aspect of life.
Can I forsake it? Nay, it's woven in my core,
It is my very essence, and shall be evermore.
Penned this one and twentieth of April, 'nineteen's year,
In this, my struggle, my confession's clear.
Crafted with passion and quill, by Melinani King,
in the shadow of the great bard's will.
An Ode to Stoic Cheer
I shall don a smile, both high and low my gaze,
Yet ever upward turns my face in joyous raze.
Though the multitudes may gawk, my grin shall not depart,
Even as the pang strikes deep, I'll smile with all my heart.
All the world's a stage, and I'll play my part,
Switching off the din of life, wearing blankness as my art.
They deem it naught but folly, not seeing 'neath the guise,
Blind to the tumult vast that in my quiet lies.
Complex thoughts within, too knotted to unwind,
I'll quell the inner tempest, leave the turmoil far behind.
Lay thy burdens upon me, should it ease thy soul,
Heap thine woes upon my back, I'll bear the doleful toll.
I vow to shoulder all, with a mien of glee,
Understanding without word, all thy griefs shall flee.
Pass unto me thine ills, and in my Constance find,
A fortitude unyielding, with a smile that's kind.
Penned with fervor by Melinani King,
a humble bard on the one and twentieth of April, in the year of 'nineteen,
In visage merry, I'll stand, though the tempests convene.
I shall don a smile, both high and low my gaze,
Yet ever upward turns my face in joyous raze.
Though the multitudes may gawk, my grin shall not depart,
Even as the pang strikes deep, I'll smile with all my heart.
All the world's a stage, and I'll play my part,
Switching off the din of life, wearing blankness as my art.
They deem it naught but folly, not seeing 'neath the guise,
Blind to the tumult vast that in my quiet lies.
Complex thoughts within, too knotted to unwind,
I'll quell the inner tempest, leave the turmoil far behind.
Lay thy burdens upon me, should it ease thy soul,
Heap thine woes upon my back, I'll bear the doleful toll.
I vow to shoulder all, with a mien of glee,
Understanding without word, all thy griefs shall flee.
Pass unto me thine ills, and in my Constance find,
A fortitude unyielding, with a smile that's kind.
Penned with fervor by Melinani King,
a humble bard on the one and twentieth of April, in the year of 'nineteen,
In visage merry, I'll stand, though the tempests convene.
Soliloquy of Solitude
In a chamber replete with countless visages, I stand lone,
Sustenance holds no charm, hydration but a dream flown.
In contemplation, my spirits do wane,
In emotion, only sorrow's pain.
Against the natural order I press, and find solace there,
The multitude remains in ignorance, their understanding spare.
Those few who share this ken, bear also this affliction's weight,
Those who perceive the truth, share in this mournful state.
Yet the others persist, in knowledge they stride,
Unceasing in their march, in apathy they bide.
When shall this cycle cease, when comes the final bend?
Their hearts untouched by care, on this can I not depend.
Sorrow is my constant guest, unbidden yet steadfast.
Penned this one and twentieth of April, in the year just past.
Forged by the hand of the craftswoman, Melinani King, in her own unique artistry
In a chamber replete with countless visages, I stand lone,
Sustenance holds no charm, hydration but a dream flown.
In contemplation, my spirits do wane,
In emotion, only sorrow's pain.
Against the natural order I press, and find solace there,
The multitude remains in ignorance, their understanding spare.
Those few who share this ken, bear also this affliction's weight,
Those who perceive the truth, share in this mournful state.
Yet the others persist, in knowledge they stride,
Unceasing in their march, in apathy they bide.
When shall this cycle cease, when comes the final bend?
Their hearts untouched by care, on this can I not depend.
Sorrow is my constant guest, unbidden yet steadfast.
Penned this one and twentieth of April, in the year just past.
Forged by the hand of the craftswoman, Melinani King, in her own unique artistry
Besieged by Mortal Coil
Encircled I am by a throng most vast,
Souls that comprehend not, with prying gaze cast.
Hearts unfeeling, spirits cold,
Villains vile, whose acts do appall and bold.
Yet also amongst a crowd stellar and bright,
Those who seek affection's tender light.
Hearts in quest of hearts, in mutual yearn's embrace,
With such empathy, that pain doth interlace.
Invisible the good, by the world unseen,
In the midst of this humanity, I'm keen.
Caught betwixt affection's warmth and malice's chill,
By the duality of man's own fickle will.
My love and disdain, together bound,
In thee, naught and all are found.
Beset by automata devoid of heart,
Yet within this steely frame, ardor plays its part.
Passion's fire within me lies,
Yet for the unfeeling, my heart strangely cries.
In this vast sea of man, I find myself drowned,
By every sentiment and paradox around.
Penned this thirtieth of March, in the year nineteen,
In the company of many, yet in solitude, I'm seen.
By Melinani King
Encircled I am by a throng most vast,
Souls that comprehend not, with prying gaze cast.
Hearts unfeeling, spirits cold,
Villains vile, whose acts do appall and bold.
Yet also amongst a crowd stellar and bright,
Those who seek affection's tender light.
Hearts in quest of hearts, in mutual yearn's embrace,
With such empathy, that pain doth interlace.
Invisible the good, by the world unseen,
In the midst of this humanity, I'm keen.
Caught betwixt affection's warmth and malice's chill,
By the duality of man's own fickle will.
My love and disdain, together bound,
In thee, naught and all are found.
Beset by automata devoid of heart,
Yet within this steely frame, ardor plays its part.
Passion's fire within me lies,
Yet for the unfeeling, my heart strangely cries.
In this vast sea of man, I find myself drowned,
By every sentiment and paradox around.
Penned this thirtieth of March, in the year nineteen,
In the company of many, yet in solitude, I'm seen.
By Melinani King
Sonnet to the Spiral of Life
O splendid twined form, Double Helix so fair,
No structure in nature with thee may compare.
Thy bonds of perfection, thy pairings so true,
No equal hath nature, naught else will do.
A constancy sure, upon which we rely,
Thy graceful curves hold no deceit, no lie.
Some may overlook thy resplendent form,
Ignorant of the charm in thy norm.
O Helix, in thee, our very essence is writ,
As much adored as scholars by knowledge lit.
Watson and Crick, Franklin, Wilkins beside,
In the dance of Biology and Chemistry, thou art their bride.
I, thy humble admirer, in awe do stand,
For in thy spirals, lies the artistry of Nature's hand.
By Melinani King
The Essence of Creation
Art, say I, transcends the brush and hue,
Nor confines itself to statuesque view.
It lies not solely in chambers adorned,
Nor solely in melodies that hearts have warmed.
Nor is it the feast that pleaseth the eye,
Nor the quilted tapestry 'neath which we lie.
Forsooth, any soul may render form or tale,
Yet 'tis the essence, the spirit that shall prevail.
The meaning deep, the crafter's unique sight,
The pulse of life within lines laid forthright.
These speak of worlds, of whispers of our kind,
In such expressions, true art we find.
Art is the beat of our very core,
Our souls bared wide for others to explore.
Seek not just to dissect with clinical part,
But to comprehend, to cherish, to hold dear to heart.
For when a creator their innermost does share,
Count thyself privileged, their soul laid bare.
By Melinani King
The thirtieth of March, in the year of grace, 'eighteen.
Reckoning
Behold, the fiend within unveils its ghastly mien,
A spectre of past misdeeds, unquiet and unseen...
Unpardoned souls, once spurned, now rise and roil,
Their unrest surfacing, in turmoil they do coil.
In the demon's gaze, a fathomless abyss I spy,
Its sable waves threaten to o'ersweep, and I,
For kin and hearth, I tremble, and to the fates, I plea,
Grant them gentle mercies, a life from hardship free.
Should this daemon seek to claim dominion o'er my breath,
I shall resist, wage war, 'til I am spent, 'til death.
'Tis for their future's keep my every struggle finds its worth,
My final charge, their well-being, the dearest on this earth.
So carry forth my love, in your hearts ever dwell,
Fare thee well, my cherished, in grace and health excel.
By Melinani King
Behold, the fiend within unveils its ghastly mien,
A spectre of past misdeeds, unquiet and unseen...
Unpardoned souls, once spurned, now rise and roil,
Their unrest surfacing, in turmoil they do coil.
In the demon's gaze, a fathomless abyss I spy,
Its sable waves threaten to o'ersweep, and I,
For kin and hearth, I tremble, and to the fates, I plea,
Grant them gentle mercies, a life from hardship free.
Should this daemon seek to claim dominion o'er my breath,
I shall resist, wage war, 'til I am spent, 'til death.
'Tis for their future's keep my every struggle finds its worth,
My final charge, their well-being, the dearest on this earth.
So carry forth my love, in your hearts ever dwell,
Fare thee well, my cherished, in grace and health excel.
By Melinani King
Sonnet for Zak
O heavy heart, beset with yearning's pain,
Thou throb'st with ardor, loud and wild and free.
No whispers soft, nor cries can thine contain,
For Zak, for thee, it beats, for thee, for thee.
In silent utterance, thy name resounds,
And in mine eyes, my love, as bright as day.
When mirthful beams your countenance surrounds,
My lips curve in echo of your joyful play.
Though silence reigns, thy spirit I do hear,
Grateful am I, that in this world so vast,
'Tis I who feels thy heart's words, crystal clear.
By Melinani King
O heavy heart, beset with yearning's pain,
Thou throb'st with ardor, loud and wild and free.
No whispers soft, nor cries can thine contain,
For Zak, for thee, it beats, for thee, for thee.
In silent utterance, thy name resounds,
And in mine eyes, my love, as bright as day.
When mirthful beams your countenance surrounds,
My lips curve in echo of your joyful play.
Though silence reigns, thy spirit I do hear,
Grateful am I, that in this world so vast,
'Tis I who feels thy heart's words, crystal clear.
By Melinani King
Ode to Athena
A fixation doomed to perish in its grasp,
A treasure fetched, held fast in fervent clasp.
A draught of air not destined to be drawn,
A riddle of the heart, forever pawn.
A fleeting spell, yet in the soul, 'tis cast,
A moment's charm, in memory to last.
By Melinani King
A fixation doomed to perish in its grasp,
A treasure fetched, held fast in fervent clasp.
A draught of air not destined to be drawn,
A riddle of the heart, forever pawn.
A fleeting spell, yet in the soul, 'tis cast,
A moment's charm, in memory to last.
By Melinani King
Journey Together
A maid and a lad, in life's dawn, replete with its glow,
Hand in hand 'gainst life's tempests, together they grow.
They rise and they fall, lending each other their might,
On the path trod by all, through day and through night.
They stumble, they falter, as is the mortal way,
Yet on the edge of peril's precipice, steadfast they stay.
Not so new to the world's stage, the pair does tread,
Lessons learned and spurned, ahead they are led.
Memories made and memories lost in time's vast sea,
Yet onward they march in unity, together they flee.
Now not so tender in years, with others they roam,
Sharing the wisdom and follies of the path they've combed.
Hand in hand down the byways, their bond unshaken,
Gaining knowledge, surrendering some, by life overtaken.
At the twilight of the road, still side by side,
They journey forth, leaving old trails behind.
Into a brave new era, with fresh eyes they peer,
Together they venture, in the firmament clear.
A new path they carve, to a novel sphere they steer,
Together now and ever, as one frontier.
Penned in the first year of the second millennium,
Their saga continues, under heaven's vast dome.
By Melinani King
A maid and a lad, in life's dawn, replete with its glow,
Hand in hand 'gainst life's tempests, together they grow.
They rise and they fall, lending each other their might,
On the path trod by all, through day and through night.
They stumble, they falter, as is the mortal way,
Yet on the edge of peril's precipice, steadfast they stay.
Not so new to the world's stage, the pair does tread,
Lessons learned and spurned, ahead they are led.
Memories made and memories lost in time's vast sea,
Yet onward they march in unity, together they flee.
Now not so tender in years, with others they roam,
Sharing the wisdom and follies of the path they've combed.
Hand in hand down the byways, their bond unshaken,
Gaining knowledge, surrendering some, by life overtaken.
At the twilight of the road, still side by side,
They journey forth, leaving old trails behind.
Into a brave new era, with fresh eyes they peer,
Together they venture, in the firmament clear.
A new path they carve, to a novel sphere they steer,
Together now and ever, as one frontier.
Penned in the first year of the second millennium,
Their saga continues, under heaven's vast dome.
By Melinani King
To the Soul
Should wisdom elude, thou art not yet the reader,
In muddled visions lie, thou art not the seer.
The fragrance thou dost catch, 'tis thine own essence,
And feelings stirred within, they claim no residence.
By Melinani King
Should wisdom elude, thou art not yet the reader,
In muddled visions lie, thou art not the seer.
The fragrance thou dost catch, 'tis thine own essence,
And feelings stirred within, they claim no residence.
By Melinani King
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Voyage of the Spirit
Upon life's parchment, divine it seems, Time pens and erases, yet memory teems. With the essence of trials, our form doth engage, In tears and in blood, upon the world's stage. Yet cleansed by time's river, the stains do remain, A testament scribed in joy and in pain. What's seen at the fore is but a fragment of truth, With the far-off and hazy, our youth doth uncouth. For the mind's fervent workings must one day find rest, Whilst I, mere observer, upon thy travails do attest. Through the pane of one's soul, as clear as the air, Once pure, now bound by life's snaring snare. 'Tis a tether unseen that holds us apart, An embrace forbidden, a touch of the heart. For in shadowed reflection, I yearn for thy grace, Yet 'tis only in dreams that our sorrows we face. And so with a whisper to thee, unseen, unheard, We'll meet once again, by destiny's word, To recall the shadows that led us astray, Together once more, in the light of the day. By Melinani King |
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