Sunday, February 14, 2016

Love and Loss and Lasting

A Song of Songs Into Olding

Intense clangor—the joyous movement

of rod and belle
of the brash and the subtle

caroled with rubied passion,
they ring with joy their supple skin.

Fertile in consummation, in oneness

these two-to-one
jewel their future

days with melodic movement.

Appealing with rings that couple gold,
One circle—

They spangle their handed time with madrigals.

The chiming lyric of the sapphire
adorns their sensuous

Embellishments of gemmed time

lay close

jeweled bare on their skin,
on circular strands




Turning irritants, trials, and struggles

Into pure spheres
of visioned music,

Shimmering pearls of perseverance

(Unlike the coldness
of the bland flatness,

the flaked shale
of many a marriage's mediocrity).

He and she chime in their aging,

wrinkled skin, touched creases,
caressed emeralds of cherishing,

lasting into the soft opalness

of Olding, their souls flow
warm with mellifluous serenity.

the seasoned-round


the ringing, rubied

Song of songs.

—Daniel Wilcox

First published in Word Catalyst Magazine


The Essence of Software

Why is the metal-cased T.V.
fine, structurally sound,

but my loving wife of 60 years



What repair man can I call
to have her tinkered with

so her inside will remain vibrant and joyous—

that we might share another year together

in our odyssey

through this hard land?

Why isn't there a warranty for her?

"Guaranteed, Call 1-700, Zenith Lasts!"

Already I picture the scene,
the day coming soon like a tsunami

that will roar through our lives


drown us all.

I will stand


an umbrella

in the soft, vicious rain

and stare


at the immaculate metal coffin

that will endure for centuries—stainless steel, you know—while

my wife

's corny word play
(like the time she pretended
a hot dog was a cigar)

will be gone.

How obscene...the coffin will gleam with color--

the little blue angels

in the panels and the chrome handles—long lasting like the T.V.

my wife will not


not even appear in syndication.

And the only reruns
will be in my head

until my own show
is cancelled.

The T.V. will remain—

Well, maybe not...

It too will wear out
and be dumped

into some landfill

to corrode and rust
to oblivion.

Is there Netflix for humans?

--Daniel Wilcox

First pub. in La Fenetre, France


Their Beekeeper's Moon

Their beekeeper’s moon lasted only several phases

of love’s eternal sphere;

too quickly the warm honey of fired passion,
the illumined glow...

—all those amorous-vesseled words


no wined days
or champagne-giddy nights




broken with dishearten
their lacerated lives

scattered into

loose shards,

and w i d e n e d---

a barren landfill
of middle years,

their debris-ed evenings...

his wandering looks,

her sidetracked eyes,

their mangled conversation

no keeper's hope remained. No communion...


graciously in elder-oaked age,

old scars healed and new buds came,
a fresh phase of shine

shone in their faces,

the nectared honey of freely choosing

chosen love
—their lasting

--Daniel Wilcox

First pub. in the The Greensilk Journal


Ever After

Waking up close to you,
Your ‘presence’ covered in our morning’s lips caress

Like the shimmering, luminous night's seal to a sleeping princess,
We’re warm, luscious honeycombed lovers,

Deeply treasured in life-long mellifluous romance
Truly our cherished delicious passion,

And the moonlight on the water,
Moon shimmering on the lake
And the stars shine in our room
Through time to time to time

Our heart-welling felt vow

Spectrumed rainbow of our arrowed heart,
Protecting our intertwined soul and body
Not tempted, nor wayward

But delivered from every
Disloyal fragmented moment.

For an eternal now choosing
True love so royal streamed

From time to time to time,
Through the first falling sky-up

On mount passion's verdant peak
High above the desert of briefness,

We begin newly blessed, giving life;

And the moonlight on the water,
Moon shimmering on the lake,
And the stars shine in our room
From time to time to time

With the snapping of the corked top
And the delicious splash

Of champagne on a sun-covered table,
And the burgundy bottle never empties
And our two communing glasses shine,

In the shimmering, luminous union
And the moon lights our room

And the stars’ shine on the lake
On our wedding night over and over and over,

You all in white lace
Warm in my embrace
And ever after.

By Daniel Wilcox

First published, different form
in The Shine Journal,
and in selah river

In the Light of commitment, kiss your true love,

Daniel Wilcox

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