i found you

‘tis thee, thy name,
thy name,
thy name,
that rattles in my cageless ears;
unbound by coin’d and falseful fame,
with ‘ternal glory burnt through  years;
that which i could not ‘preciate,
more than thy name, a blue sky blue;
so pardon me, accept thine hate,
a little late I’d not found you.

to speak of light, and follied so,
could i fathom thine full extent?
if only words had leapt from woe,
instead of waiting ‘til all’s spent;
but worry!
worry!
needlessly, until mine walk becomes a trudge,
ah, seconds late! unfortunate, that others paltry come to judge;
too soon, and one would insult ‘pon,
thine victory that whispers fate,
too late, and hopes become forlorn,
i found you just a little late.

just as these crumbled veins are bled,
sanguine and baked under the sun;
so just as all this heart has fled,
unseen, two had become as one.

a longing for long decembers,
that likes whose likeness wicked smile;
by sandy beaches heated embers,
star-kissed burning all the while.

inadequate, and wrongful tries , so riddled – pocked of bluff,
insufficient though full fledged, still nowhere good enough,
how could a blessed, and thorough thought, a late but perfect hour,
be written for a blind eye, so quickly turn stale and sour?

there’s more to upper hands that’s worth,
engagement before left;
a heart, a promise, ‘moments mirth,
that stolen worse than theft;
i promise, t’wall end but too soon, may judgement deserved fate,
and only wish sooner i’d tried, i found you just too late.
but, hark! the midnight hour has passed, and sunrise sets at noon,
indeed i misconstrued that thought – i found you but too soon.