And Such Eyes As These

AND SUCH EYES AS THESE

By soft words or subtle persuasion,
The flower could be stripped down to the petal.
And such eyes as these,
Could create moods that never permeate beyond the pale.
And still we linger beyond the soft pastels of the morning,
Sigh and wait.
And in turn you could decide a crisis and flout private opinion,
And these words drop and fall pregnant with unmeaning,
And only the music hangs on the moment.
And yet, you decide,
Is all for personal consideration?
The tainted cloister that stifles and shames the subject,
We break and malign the obvious tide,
Your life knew the moment of choice,
You plunge into the self-life as if dominion was your category,
Period of empire there for the slicing.
Waiting is a tear filled occupation, fraught with frustration,
And the child in you stays folded into silent corners desperate for
recognition.
And the child in you smells only the old dangers,
As if nothing could be new, or fresh, or clean.
Stay a while and listen to the faint stirring of music in the
soul,
From God knows where,