Bliss in a flower

Week’s been frailing into a song dearest tender known,
Soft whispers if let desire the night shall now be own;
Mystery that silences – fears of falling far;
Blooms of deepest wonder flounder more to bear.
If crazy keeps that beating, more in tranquil bed,
And treads taught ways of behaving mind,
I in my fullest would stutter, believing that’s been said,
Carry lines of fastidiousness and loathe the prolonged dead.
Twice if now it mattered lay all chambers of the heart,
Pine the bliss in flower, it’s name I’d utter.
Pictures that bless the feeling of sudden wishing care,
Find myself believing what ought not to share.
Days of living fragrance which breaks such solitude –
A perfect day in summer and the sunshine glimmers true;
In heaps of callow love now, when strings fondle harmony,
Buy my time to ponder – the cameo of the lily.

Silent parry

Hither what believeth,
Knew not pleasure and pain;
Frowned at Thy wishes benign
” ‘Tis nay Lord’s crowned place.”

Ye loads hath thee complete,
Solemn summer’s life.
Faith ye bound knees together,
To ground by altar nigh.

Heaven’s hands then sought;
Thy let the offspring-glee;
Falsified self pure embraced,
Eyes thou gracefully forfeit.