A Helping Hand, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Como Mountains

A Helping Hand

Gory giants are rising from the sea
Is it their sole desire to devour me
Their grizzly actions I don’t comprehend
What so foolish did I do to offend

Is there any hope if they come ashore
I but a measly speck will be no more
For as King David I could never act
To push these Goliaths steadily back

As a coward I hide behind a tree
Prostrate praying that me they do not see
Their mighty roaring rumble do I feel
The deadly rattle of their swords of steel

As I shuttered my eyes all went quiet
Wondering if this is a mere respite
Do I dare to stand tall on my two feet
With no understanding what I may greet

Felt the gently warmth of the morning sun
With its intervention the battle won
Was it but a dream I will never know
But stretching, smiled, as I bask in its glow

The Dancers, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The DancersThe Dancers, Charles Turzak (c.1930s)

The Dancers

We are dancing a waltz
I moved ever so near
To smell her gold spun hair
So muted is its scent
It was the summer’s air
Moving even closer
My lips against her ear
So she could feel my breath
Closer was her response
As my tongue met her lobe
The band played steadily
But I heard not a note
For I was far above
In a warm misty cloud
No feet upon the floor
To the door she guided
My mind nearly consumed
For but one thing I think
Is have her totally
Knowing this isn’t a dream

Life’s Stream, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Life's StreamWoman’s Head (detail), Leonardo da Vinci (c.1500)

Life’s Stream

I see on your eye the very first drop
The first one that is direct from your heart
Allow me be the one to make it stop
So never again will I let it start

Oh, what a fool, the one who made you cry
Ever so selfish in his nasty need
To deeply hurt you, I would rather die
Never letting  your loving heart to bleed

Come, find your quiet comfort in my arms
From my lips not a word to be spoken
I will protect you from all future harms
Our heart strings I shall lovingly fasten

Let your mind go into a pleasant dream
Of just you and I floating on life’s stream

Dreams, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

DreamsFlaming June, Frederic Leighton (1895)

Dreams

The sun has risen but dream as you may
Leave labors of work for another day
Hope your dreams be filled with the thoughts of me
As the many nights my dreams be of you
Praying that all my dreams may soon come true
That you may know my love forever be

Affixed by your beauty am much beguiled
Cuddled as a kitten or little child
But the facts bear that you are a woman
Whose tender touch shall eagerly await
Knowing this desire for you shant abate
Hoping my love you are never to shun

 

Leaf on a River, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Leaf on a RiverRiver Study, J Laurence Hart (n.d.)

Leaf on a River

My heart as a leaf flows with the river
No port of call is currently listed
Nor stopping to be a solemn griever
River doesn’t yield, heart cannot be bided

Know not where or when the river will end
Heart was once green now a sullen yellow
Never made a choice of lover or friend
Can’t remember ever being a foe

This water journey thought to be unique
Soon found that countless millions are alike
With nothing of great importance to speak
Nor a vein of richness ever to strike

Who determines what someone’s life is worth
Should we be celebrating any birth

 

“Annie” Richmond, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Edgar Allan PoeEdgar Allan Poe, Oscar Halling (c. 1860)

“Annie” Richmond

If were to die with unfulfilled passion
What would happen to my beleaguered soul
To wander a dark wasteland so barren
My hurting story will remain untold

Nay I say with yet unknown breaths to take
It is my love that you have forsaken
In my heart you have placed a piercing stake
But not a love which will soon come undone

You enter my dreams cruelly each night
To take you completely is your command
Beauty so tasteful within my sight
I reach but it is not you in my hand

A curse to this day is over my head
Saying I love you cannot be unsaid

 

The Eve of Saint Agnes, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Eve of Saint AgnesThe Eve of Saint Agnes, John Everett Millais (1863)

The Eve of Saint Agnes

This is the evening before Saint Agnes’ feast,
The night’s dream when your true love will appear.
Should the rules be followed down to the least,
Eyes looking to heaven with body clear.
Entering her chamber her breath increased,
In her hungry heart she carried some fear.
Will it be the one she’s loved from the start,
Or some stranger with a cold empty heart.

Lemon moon shines beyond her window pane,
Falls on her face showing she’s without sleep.
Anguish in her mind creating great pain,
Soon with heavy eyes darkness she did reap.
Awakened, wondering if this be feign,
His lips on hers, knows this is love to keep.
She motioned that he should enter her bed,
Their passion displayed as the color red.