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I Love You More Than Words Can Say!

It's exciting that as Poets we can discover truths concerning love and encourage others to think deeply about them.


When I hear the owl, nature says all's well,
Speech millions miss - the secret's kept secret
And thought control comes from those things that dwell
Where dwells the turtle, low and little set
Who will not attempt to fly as men loved.
Men told they're loved bend their desires upwards,
Cannot be bribed to be sad nor that way shoved;
They hear the owl and speak like ancient Bards
With powerful impulse - walk past stepping stones -
One foot too short gives Byron's fame their mind.
When sad dare I consult myself with moans?
No! my love - listen for the owl who's kind,
Watch the turtle swim confined and thoughts fly.
If you came by and kissed me I would die.

The owl was my link with the Maker of All, a sign that I was in touch. Science debunks it. The Bible closes such doors to God.
But a kiss is a door to the Cosmos, the universe, the Maker if opened right now I'd be ready to die - maybe a thousand more first?


What flows through the throne of thought of woman
When in love that was not made truly sweet?
What's shown as her eyes linger on her man
That lifts, removes man's rough bark, smooth to greet?
Nothing more beautiful my love than yours
For fine my talk, my walk, my heart are hewn
Showing no cross thing cross - now soft adores
From day one moved by first words' softest tune.
So how could love not love to linger long
Though the heart had been hacked before full sore
And faith in goodness having power near gone?
Oh the delight, oh the poetry heart saw
Finding that which might have been missed on earth
Yet surely everyone's right gained before birth.

A kiss is a sign I am wanted in this Universe and the thoughts of the kissed woman make my stay worthwhile. Everything I do then has direction. Should I tell others of this secret to life?


Goddess of Goodness and Love when wind's sweet
My land was barren now words scatter seeds;
Lips shut closed, opened, poetry's love's treat,
When wind fails my sails your beauty succeeds.
Let your eyes send little kisses and sighs
Oh curer of wounded hearts, so words weave
Your message smiled from more than human eyes
That lips on lips, hand in hand won't deceive
If roses red are heart blood wind and rain
And she's the one whose coming was foretold.
Loved woman middle of summer's most gain
As Goddess in sweet wind this poet's made bold -
All seasons, all wild winds these words now ride,
Our hearts honeyed, all ill winds gone have died.

Which book should every man consult? Where should he search for meaning in his life?
Start with the kisses of his love's eyes. No need to read the above sonnet again - all will be revealed to him.


I'm proud my poetry pleases your heart
Yet pride's seen as great weakness, Good Book pushed
That our Maker's not proud of his/her part
In making and shaping - should be muched hushed.
I'm so evil in being pleased I write,
Proud of what I write, proud of myself so
That your beauty brings out words creamy white
And passion makes them butter sweet most know.
How evil I am that pride warms like love,
The love that draws out daring words for you.
I look in the mirror, evilly above
Wrong in grinning I'm good to you, your due.
I'm proud, I'm proud oh double scoundrel I -
Oh Maker of all be proud, I'll squash the lie.

Those that control the meanings of words with the aim it seems to control my thoughts the Poet challenges their right.
What feels good today and tomorrow and hurts no one seems weak scoundrel motivation. But in praising my love my motivation I fear is that of an utter scoundrel.


Listen to truths you've trained my thoughts to find
For cleared of sadness and guilt my mind dwells
Along the river where grass sees eyes blind
And knows the frowns that close them, grass then tells
Of pretty feet, gentle breeze - the mower.
Listen to truths you've trained my thoughts to love,
Clearly like grass best we gaze on the flower
Not close our eyes in fear of blades above.
Your love has made me fearless, truth is so.
Listen to truths you've trained my mind to see
That in loved arms of love moans when mown go -
Let your pretty feet dance where it's grassy
Not under the moon alone; hear your heart -
A truth's just like a lie when torn clean apart.

The Poet reports back to his love truths that she has through love led him to find. See and smell the flowers while they are there. Listen to your heart and dance. A chance missed is a chance missed.
Though two spirits in love is pretty cool dancing.


Let me play at conceit though humble plea
And being without cloud kissing missed things.
Let me brag that words birthed from this staged spree
Win higher heart, lower risk than song brings
That in my arms you'll soon swoon through their power.
Let my mind rather than your beauty draw
Out secrets words hold bound till poet-viewed, flower
Then words more love me, not you in awe.
Oh what fun to kiss clouds as you watch -
Surely failure leaves alone such pumped up pride.
Oh? you bow your head in praise as lips touch
The cloud and my proud words flow far and wide?
And as poetry from me not love nor you
Dims the lighted stage, I kiss dirt anew.

The Poet tests another notion taught from youth as being bad.
Conceit seen as cloud kissing (Shakespeare) doesn't deter him but a dimly lit stage without his love's love figuring in his poetry cures him from kissing nothing much at all. Is the poet really serious or is he indirectly revelling in praising his love?


Dear Hate you haven't choice and can't choose love's side
For you serve Love like darkness serves light's reign;
Bright sun's more welcome each morning to preside;
With night's presence, day can more glory claim.
Dear Hate you haven't choice much like winter weak
Who's trapped so that summer shines more man's days;
Your reason for being not love to break.
Oh Lack Of Love as Love's slave tame your ways,
Be mild with me while there's work, thoughts remove
Of love, that when work's done love exceeds songs,
Exceeds all art - yes! rest from love can sooth
My racing heart while words claim love much belongs.
Dear Hate now named Lack Of Love, who sent you?
The One who made darkness so beauty's true!

The Poet attempts to define Hate out of existance and being lack of love he can have a rest from love and thereby be even more loving toward his love.
That the Maker of All allows there to be lack of love, allows choice - is a nicer image in the Poet's eyes. (Made Hate - lack of love - so a kiss can be true.)


Would I wish to spend all of time with you
If I did not know you, neither you me?
Best our sense of love found here goes on too -
Poor love, thin love, shallow love endlessly?
Better find good love, best love, grand love then
That which is beautiful - our ten best kisses?
With ten different women? - yes! I've kissed ten.
Who says who's matched up? What are your wishes?
First, second or third say? Surely want first?
Then mutual love rules and side loves fall lost?
So some are tricked to lost love or worse
For ever and ever, so just lust love has cost?
I want to choose you without help or force -
Put me with someone else I'll leave of course!

The Poet takes a look at eternity and how it could be unwanted so that the best kind of eternity can be sought.
Such thinking would have had the church filled with hate for him in years gone by. Love forever is not for the Poet if both parties don't agree on the conditions. Forever could be horrible conditions imposed.


While loving more some love less as faults found
For love thrives best not blind but with closed eyes
To those things that steal beauty's growing ground;
And walking through the park, bark off trees dies
Yet we therefore don't visit less often.
Why does love all around us fade with time?
It's meant to, it's meant to go again?
Yes love goes unless our love's so sublime
We close our eyes to falling bark in parks
And asked why our eyes are closed in love lie
To say that this hour and that eyes closed marks
Dust in our eyes, never say love nor sigh.
The wise owl did wink when I had these thoughts
As bark missed my head - and denied in courts.

The Poet is criticised as being unrealistic as having his head in the clouds - not facing that his loved one has faults because he doesn't directly write about them. He thinks the beauty of the park and his visits aren't improved by dwelling upon the falling bark. The Poet is an out and out liar? Romance is a lie?
The Poet has no inside information?


To impress we must well please with much pluck
Which makes me wonder how silent types win.
Do they disguise much as little - unstuck
For the lady sees not nothing nor thin
But rather more there through heart than elsewhere?
Let me play the poet without word power
Where no sound does offer that my heart's bare
And from the dim corner catch your smile's shower -
In one glance notice eyes non-stop talk,
That lips could say wondrous loud praise with poise
And hands far from dumb could with moonlight walk.
Surely silent types must pound with noise.
Come over to me, motion me to hush -
Let me not spoil the mood nor the moment crush.

The Poet wishes to experiment with other ways than being his natural self because complete union is not his as yet.
He is too eager? He must be patient for the Lady will fall for the natural man not actor all in good time. But it doesn't hurt to impress her!


Sweet Love how should your power, your force be grown?
With pruning out all that lacks strength perhaps
Or cutting back so beauty's spring's best shown?
Then notions time after time love's truth saps
Like love lasts where love hasn't should be well burnt? -
To tell lies that save, tell truths that harm, stay?
These things sound man thought out without love earnt -
Sweet Love forget pruning, forget what men say,
Let's look to Nature's beauty that men leave
For here beauty and harmony thrive best
And still men see fires - that hate lurks, believe.
Sweet Love you are in my heart to invest,
To prune not, to fault not - your growth to feel -
Your power, your force from my Lady you steal?

What would the Poet know? - some would say. Has he a lady in his arms? The Poet is in love and feels the growth of love more so than in his past. He is more than inclined to believe his Lady is responsible.


There's silence without love, that chills the heart
Where peace and warmth comes from breath kisses fired
When there seemed little chance without love's chart,
Then soft flowers fell forming love's coloured bed,
A magic circle with sweet views of the world
Which below, before silent, calls loudly -
Dark earth bright, feared depth of night with love swirled,
Stars twinkling, even those dull seen rarely;
Our love now like a living meteor
Welcomes the chance to visit earth's green grass
Our two hearts as one, two planets before;
One heart that hears sounds old no-love did mask
And peace and warmth from fired kisses breath
Removes us from those who face silent death.

Yes this is LOVE. Yes this is surely LOVE!

Have you noticed - you're willing to agree? -
That love is not confined to those who are
Gifted in any way, in fact it's true
Anyone can love, even those not good
At school so does that mean thinking is not
Needed for love? No it means schools avoid
Thinking that jumps steps, for jump step thinking
Could be cheating and accusers take charge
Without much love and fail the good thinker
Too good for his boots, so how can we, how
Can we measure love? How can we be sure
The other person loves as much as we do?
Don't worry you will know and if you're wrong
The person with the most love wins later.

Yes in 'Two Hearts Two Cities' there is much love and that is all the Poet knows and all he needs to know. If you haven't many things if anything greater than love that you treasure then the highly intellectual thing to do is obvious. Order through Zora Knight the illustrator. Her alluring art work of love must be seen.

By David A. Doolan

© 2019 David A. Doolan (All rights reserved)


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