Redneckrenaissanceman's Weblog

Paris? My Love

redneckrenaissanceman — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 04:08:46 +0000

Shall we see Paris? My Love
In the Fall.
We could dance in moonlight, and kiss
Beneath the roses climbing
On the wall.

Meet me in Paris? My Love
In the Fall.
The tender beauty and proportion
Would grace such art
Beneath the shadows of the Eiffel, standing
Oh’ so tall.

How about Paris? My Love
In the Fall.
We could walk among lavender and dream of love
As Monet’s ghost paints our amorous romance
Shall we see Paris? My Love
In the Fall.

RNRM

Free pictures of cities

The Passionate Pirate

redneckrenaissanceman — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 20:20:49 +0000

A devilish silence enslaved the ship
As Leviathan opened Dante’s Inferno.
Days of windless hell have marooned the mast and jib
Rouges and thieves have squandered rum and tack.
Captain, and scoundrel am I, who shares not
His ivory, will gladly give poison or steel.

Cap and ball ready my fingers tremble
Upon my brow, I shall not die of thirst!
Alas! Where is Virgil? No guide have I!
Perhaps only witty poets are given clues?
No bard am I! No wit to charm my muse; my dark lady.
Cursed be buccaneer whose ever immersed
His poisoned quill, to write bad verse.

photo by © Mduraj | Dreamstime.com

Leaving the Isle of Desire

redneckrenaissanceman — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 07:27:04 +0000

photo by Camilo Alvarez netto | Dreamstime.com

I, a pirate, who long ago fell from grace
Swears, never again to look upon this dastardly place
The isle with fires of desire that burn through the night
Burns me with fever, such thirst it does incite
I, the fool who heard the Siren’s choir
I, the rogue who chased a tempting desire

Desire without love, leaves such discontent
A maddening, smoldering dross
I, Sail on! and lament not this facade
Farewell! to false lovers whose hearts are mere stone
Charge my glass! and draw the sword!
Unfurl the sails! and hoist the Jolly Bones!

The Isle of Desire

redneckrenaissanceman — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 14:15:54 +0000

photo by © Paulus | Dreamstime.com

I, a simple man
Not known for line and verse
Am buccaneer with amoristic curse
A wayward highwayman

Bewitched and enchanted by the chase
The moment the touch the embrace
I looked into abyssal depths
Of impassioned sultry eyes
Deep pools lit by Aphrodite’s moon

I, a pirate, rogue and rake
Unholy visions did I make
To shipwreck upon this
Mysterious apparitional isle
Not found on chart or bearing

I followed the enamored damsel
To the isle of desire
Where faith and vows are lost, betrayed
And forbidden lovers dance
In moonlight and consuming fires

Our Secret Place

redneckrenaissanceman — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 12:25:57 +0000

Our secret place is hidden by the calm
The dappled shade draws a most welcoming balm
Alone I dream and sketch our time of bliss
The river’s canvass tranquil; white the mist
My grieved heart paints a portrait of the last kiss

In Flanders Fields

redneckrenaissanceman — Sun, 25 May 2008 11:45:15 +0000

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lieut.-Col. John McCrae first Canadian contingent

http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm

Zapata Falls

redneckrenaissanceman — Sat, 10 May 2008 13:34:02 +0000

Inside the alcove of Zapata Falls
My spirit awakened in the mist
The falls pounded like a thundering herd
Where once the land was sacred, never fenced or sold
I stood against the cold and rocky cleft
As subterranean winds touched my face
Was this a doorway to another realm?
An escape from unbelievers in a
Believe in nothing ,desecrating span.
My feet and thoughts stood frozen in the stream
As I dreamt of rivers unspoiled by man
The poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge sprang
“Where Alph, the sacred river, ran” (Line 3)

RNRM

Coleridge Taylor Samuel. “Kubla Khan” Passions in Poetry

http://www.netpoets.com

Kalalau, The Mysterious Misty Domain

redneckrenaissanceman — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 22:52:33 +0000

Look quick before the rain rolls in again
This valley is seldom beheld by man
What will you see in this misty domain?
Where did Koolau the dauntless leper hide?
Held in steep seclusion, open to the tide

photo by Redneckrenaissance man

He Layeth Me on His Shoulders

redneckrenaissanceman — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 21:44:39 +0000

Under a terebinth tree I listened
As Jesus of Galilee drew me near
He taught as one with authority and love
His word nourished my lost and weary soul
The Scribes and Pharisees scoffed and accused
Thy said He receiveth sinners like me
That I was not worthy of their wisdom
Then Jesus spoke to them a parable
Of ninety and nine and one that was lost
My soul stirred within me, A joy so complete !
The Good Shepherd layeth me on His shoulders
I was one of His lost sheep, He found me at long last !

Stepping Into the Jordan

redneckrenaissanceman — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 16:41:36 +0000

I saw the sadness , deep in your blue eyes
Like waters from the Pools of Solomon
When tears began to flow I felt your pain
Your hands were warm with your loving kindness
As you gently caressed my dying frame
You cried as I stepped into the Jordan
My soul at last departed to be free
Take care my little one, The Good Shepherd
Awaits me with his loving open arms