Author: Jeffrey L. H. Naylor

Sweet shining light
Blinds the sight,
And my heart sinks
With a new forged link.

Falling deep into her grip
The brokenness no longer rips.
She mends and heals
The wand of hope she wealds.

In her, completion I find,
Now our destiny to bind.
Forever her promise of the heart
Guarantees we never shall part.

Doubt leaves its scorned mark
Upon Box Elder’s aging bark
See how quickly grows the face
Strange and difficult to place
The meaning of her I mean to gain
Only suspicion sweetens this face of pain.

Why does some stranger
Keep stealing my religion?
When day after day
I pray here with my poems.
But every time I pray,
Someone takes them away.

Our Love Is
Threaded Into Silken Ropes
Knotted Eternally
Into Binding Ties
Ties hewn in blood and souls
Spent in crackened bowls of dust
There can be no love that last so long
Only death can supercede such a love sweet song!

for Truth shall never die, it does dwell
in the inward crevices of our
wheres and theres,
and our places and spaces.
spaces and places, and
wheres and theres
that are only known to me…and yours to you.
truth will never die
as long as people like the us
tend gingerly to the crevices, where hope survives.
that courage holds onto just enough
of the virtuous gift of Truth to stand the trial
of tyranny’s vile
desire to steal away Truth
beyond infinity’s gates.
to hold on and secure the secret
tiny crevices, which forever
maintain that Truth hid well
within all our watchful hearts
assures tyranny’s eventual depart.

Looking, but not seeing,
Watching movement without emotion.
Like a human clock, time flickers
Swiftly across the peering face that
Stares soulless from windows
Of doubt and shame,
Perceiving spaces to be empty
That abound with Life.

Your Love Is
Knotted all silky,
Torn and tattered, teared with fear.
Sorrow the Craftsman’s Cry!
Eternally, you think it matters.
Its binds are not soulful sinew of heart
And blood; only smeared with grief apart,
Which moves you further away from absurd
Supercilious ties of bloody dogs, mattered
In wadded fantasy, created in hell,
A wickedness of those your love dispelled Eternally.
There rots bowls of blood, dust
Aggregate in lies of distrust.
There is no love between you and them
Nor them and you.
Your love is a farce, more, it is demonically
Staged, insuring that life for you will
Forever remain frozen, love-locked in hell!

The leaves of grass lie by the
Stubborn sea and point their sails
Into the winds of the soothing waters gone
Searching in the cold of polar ice for
Melting hearts of white stone. There in the
Liquid dark is the predawn sight
That mocks my desire to pour the day bright . . .
Thick is the soggy air
That sucks away that melody fair
Tucked away deep within my heart
Wanting and waiting a new love to start . . .
All of heaven is the space
Where I will trumpet of the grace,
The tender nature of someone true . . .
Softest, melting heart of purest blue!

Solemnly I sit, tears quietly trickling down as
I gaze at her picture and ponder upon the face flat within.
The eyes, so sorrowful, mouth barely a smile.
This soul, her soul must be weeping, weeping now her soul.

For I could not erase the pain of all her yesterdays, as
The daylight of my love for her did fail to envelop and to protect.
Yet, any other could not possibly love her more than I.

Warm, salty tears fall rounded upon the captured face
Within this picture, within this hand now tightly clutches to
Equal that time her beauty did dare to grasp my heart.

That hold now vanquished with heavy heart forlorn
Is a weight no less than ten thousand tears so bravely wept.
Within the darkness as Romeo and Juliet for one another did die,
Without the dawn she brought each day, my soul now pales.

My love for her will never languish in saddened weight,
Surging forever, yearning with longing heart, I wait.
Time bathes us in a rhapsody of undying hope.
One day and a thousand years from now, we will meet again.

Her light once more I shall embrace linked heart and soul.
And should God’s grace choose to shine upon me inexplicably,
Then in moments swift my love will envelop that issue.

Again in the burn of love so deep our love will merge
Not merely in a moment simple, then passed, but
With fire that leaps to reap and sweep in unrestrained calamity
Time’s unbounded yield thus infinitely upon us imposed.

In soft black allusions
I bury my face
Finding hard white elusions
Of love’s embrace

Desperate wishes puncture
My complacency and guide
Me swiftly to her side
Gently drawing closer

Baby strands of hair
Mark her lady fair
And leads my heart yield
Keeping her as my shield