“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.

 

Castle in the Air, a poem by Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Schloss_Falkenstein_Planung_Gemälde_Historismus_LudwigFalkenstein Castle, Christian Jank (1883)

Castle in the Air, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Shall we build a grand castle in the air?
So great in its stature none can compare,
People will soon come from most everywhere,
In amazement will give a wondrous stare.

The architect plans are finally here,
After perusal not really clear.
What are you thinking that we do my dear?
Be brazen and continue without fear?

Builder says won’t quit until job is done,
Not too sure about the cost overrun.
It’s been two months and job has not begun,
Think the money has headed for the sun.

I’m thinking the house we have is just fine,
Let me pour you another glass of wine.

Winters Past, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Winterliche Landschaft mit zugefrorenem Altwasser und FigurenstaffageWintry Landscape with Frozen Water and Figure Statues, Johann Jungblut (c. 1900)

Winters Past, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

The glittering glow of winter’s first snow,
It is that time of year of so much cheer,
When Jack Frost puts on his seasonal show,
A time when we wish our love ones be near.

Is not a time to bundle up and hide.
Lights in each window to beckon with bliss.
Come in and sit awhile by the fireside,
Search for the mistletoe to get a kiss.

Turkey and toys, memories full of joy,
Sledding and skating for all of the day.
This is what I remember as a boy,
Now I see it in a different way.

Stress from hunger and pain are in full view.
Was it the same then I just never knew?

Golden Autumn, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

 

Isaac_Levitan_-_Golden_autumn._Slobodka_-_Google_Art_ProjectGolden Autumn, Slobodka, Isaac Levitan (1889)

Golden Autumn, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Here I sit on the hill silent and still,
Peering off to the end with mind spawning.
Autumn, the soft wind gives its gentle chill,
Time not move this day for this I’m yearning.

Relive this year impossible I fear,
Yet many memories forever be.
No doubt this has been a wonderful year,
Having those I love so much, near to me.

The darkness of winter shall soon be here,
With many memories shant shed a tear.
Plentiful laughs and giggles fill my ear,
Held so close to my heart with much revere.

In autumn some work to collect the leaves,
For me it is time to store memories.

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.