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To Melanie


    To Melanie

    Peter Pawinski

    As I traverse this boundless, sandy plain

    With the sun flogging me like flames of Hell,

    With the warm, western wind whispering to me

    Of Sidney's amorous odes to his treasured Stella,

    I spy a tender vision clad in gold,

    With misty ruby lips and topaz hair --

    With Autumn amber eyes -- a sapphire smile --

    Like precious jewelry -- delicate and rare.

    At first account I think it a mirage,

    For Aphrodite only graces pages

    Of ancient Greek tomes, all but forgotten

    With myths of Muses and hoary mages.

    But, as is human, my thoughts are in err,

    And with noble marvel my trembling face

    Is creeping by inches to taste the sweet

    Ambrosia of her angelic embrace.

    I am assured she's not a delusions

    For my falt'ring fingers verily feel

    The immortal embers that slowly churn

    Inside her fireplace -- sans doute, she is real.

    Yes, my dear, I wave the solemn white flag,

    For my heart has usurped my mind's control,

    And no longer am I able to duel

    With these feelings that lance through my soul.

    Here's a poem I wrote a while is written in a style that is out of vogue today, but nonethless it reads well. It seems to me that not too many love poems are written today...

    This poem is one of many published by the EServer, a nonprofit collective.