The Day After, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Munch Edvard-The Day After (c1895)The Day After, Edvard Munch (c. 1895)

The Day After, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Here am I laying idle on my bed,
Wond’r what is going on inside my head.
Should be up doing things I always dread.
Will lazily linger awhile instead.

Having real trouble with what I’ve read.
Extremely troubling thoughts it did embed.
Thinking that down the wrong path I am led.
Somehow very soon these thoughts I must shed.

Not logical for myself to behead.
Now I hold tightly to a single thread.
Is it true, to a fool I soon be wed?
Am I the fool listening to what is said?

Dangerous to heed the gossip they spread,
All of this talk has made my face blood-red.

 

 

 

By the River, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Robinson Theodore-By_the_River (1887)

Theodore Robinson, By the River (1887)

By the River, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

When I am fully grown what will I be?
Am I destined to be strong as this tree?
Of a mind in knowing that I am free?
And to hold strong passionate faith in Thee?

To be free as the river flowing by,
As the many birds that travel the sky.
This very request Thou should not deny,
For through baptism Thy support I rely.

Need to be free to follow in Thy name,
To let my heart be Thy eternal flame.
The young heart that Thou so early did claim,
Make me ready Thy holy words to proclaim.

To make me pure of heart and strong of mind,
So in my heart Thy name will be enshrined.

 

Lovers’ Moon, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Unknown Artist - Lovers, c.1910

Unknown Artist, Lovers (c. 1910)

Lovers’ Moon, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

So close to Cupid, fear we’re his target.
Come we shall take the staircase to heaven.
There memories made never to forget.
Lovers’ moon so bright will be our beacon.

If you be chilled, here take my loving heart,
Aflame of a resplendent love of you.
As you have neutralized every rampart,
Eagerly awaits your love to imbue.

Ask me not why I feel the way I do,
Very first sight of you love would ensue.
Such a feeling will always continue,
Admitting my love never to eschew.

Though tonight’s lovers’ moon is soon to set,
Its light on you face thoughts of when we met.

The Muse, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Romney George-Lady_Hamilton_as_CirceGeorge Romney, Lady Hamilton as Circe (c. 1872)

The Muse, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Starring unfocused at empty paper.
If I be less than a scared cuttlefish,
Squirting ink into the unsafe water.
With absent thoughts ready to relinquish.

Magical words to sweep thee off thy feet,
Nowhere in my mindful search were they found.
Unfit of thy love to admit defeat.
Gridlocked mind must be hurriedly unbound.

Closed eyes thou stand vividly before me,
Beauty beyond that which graced to Circe.
To free this mind gladly pay the bounty,
But the cost is lost memory of thee.

This conundrum I am forever doomed,
A taste of thy love nev’r to be consumed.

 

A Pensive Moment, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Knight Daniel Ridgway-A Pensive MomentDaniel Ridgway, A Pensive Moment (not dated)

A Pensive Moment, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Good morning to you O beautiful world.
This day everything is kissed by the sun.
I’m eager to see such beauty unfurled.
Smell, see, touch; be released of all burden.

The bird sings its song, my thought moves along.
See the beauty of these many flowers.
Smelling the rose, thoughts of a love so strong.
Delightful way for awakening hours.

This is the way I want my life to be,
Yet knowing that it will be uncertain.
Being free without need for special plea,
To love life until the final curtain.

The birds sing songs of life so blissfully,
If only our lives could be so carefree.

 

A Game of Chess, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Weeks Edwin Lord, A Game of Chess(c.1900)Edwin Lord Weeks, A Game of Chess (c. 1900)

 

A Game of Chess, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Life, as Chess, is a game of strategy,
And chance, with the outcome known early on,
Determined by players’ ability.
Here for sure, the loser will be the Kahn.

It appears, she has made, all the right moves.
He’s vulnerable with no defenses.
In turn, important pieces she removes.
Game but over, he’s lost all his senses.

She has done more, than just capture his king.
It’s she who decides, the kind of action.
Now the game, will be all of her making.
To be done, to her full satisfaction.

Unlike chess, life can produce two winners.
Being in love makes them co-prisoners.

 

 

The Last Kiss, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Allason, Silvio-Kiss Through the Gate

Silvio Allason, Il Bacio (c. 1900)

 

The Last Kiss, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Without your tender touch I’m in prison.
Deafened not hearing your dulcet voice.
Absent your beauty I have no vision.
My life without you death would be the choice.

Rules are made to deter such love as ours.
Explaining why they can’t give good reason,
Excuses why numerous as the stars.
Our deep love is tantamount to treason.

Cannot be without you another day.
Bells striking eight I shall be at the gate.
To touch your loving lips to God I pray.
My torn heart shall falter if you be late.

Our last loving kiss will be my farewell,
In this world there is no desire to dwell.