I've been writing a lot more recently than usual. I always write a bit, but these past couple of weeks have been a deluge. Most of my work will probably never make it here, just my favorites. But I wrote something that managed to touch my own heart deeply. It's yet another villanelle, but I may love it best of all the ones I've written.
I await your favors, still dreaming of your face
If darkness overwhelms me, still that memory is mine
Maybe love is best where it is not commonplace.
I walk my past uncertainly, all my steps retraced
Through triumph and tragedy, every rise and each decline
While I await your favors, still dreaming of your face.
What came before was easy and at frenetic pace
But this is slower and not looked-for, and for all that much more fine
Maybe love is best where it is not commonplace.
What I have is little, laden with dishonor and disgrace
But in your dedicated fire inferior tempers to refined
So I'll await your favors, still dreaming of your face.
Now the scribing's almost done, vows that cannot be erased
I anticipate the seamlessness, the joy of being aligned
Maybe love is best where it is not commonplace.
No one prepared me for you, but now I've joined in the chase
To hunt and moon for something that's approaching the divine
I await your favors, still dreaming of your face
Maybe love is best where it is not commonplace.
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