My First Villanelle

Author of Demise?

Held in these arms that harm I’m lying here

Heart aches and yearns for glory days of past

I call back times our love was very clear

Your harsh words do tear down soul’s root of cheer

No logic to this prose leaves me aghast

Held in these arms that harm I’m lying here

Oh how sincere your anguish does appear

Yet its effects are short and fade so fast

I call back times our love was very clear

Every new day augments degrees of fear

And by your paranoia, I’m harassed

Held in these arms that harm I’m lying here

My nurturing ways can no longer steer

Which testifies this course can never last

I call back times our love was very clear

Will a dark day dawn when you’ll lose my ear?

How sad the threats of such a loss are vast

Held in these arms that harm I’m lying here

I call back times our love was very clear

Love is…

Love is…doing what is right
once provoked to do wrong,
knowing the reasoning reward

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is… just being together
without words thrown into play
‘n in silence, knowing all’s okay

And that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…the calm after the storm
when the stakes are their highest
and peace rules over vindication

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…found in the simplicity
of a routine trip to the store shared
or the phone call about nothing at all

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…a product of deep roots.
Only time, conjoined with visits to the
bank of emotional deposits, can birth it

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…more than words spoken.
It’s their full depth of meaning
joined with the merit in expressing

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…growing older together
‘n watching youth’s splendor fade;
remembering, yet embracing change

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…the coming together
after the longest day spent apart;
content within each other’s arms

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love is…sharing a tragic loss,
and understanding the anguish
on the same level of ownership

and that feeling flooding you
when you’ve done the doing.

Love goes…beyond the rapture;
when sure it could never get better,
the morrow soars it to greater heights

and that feeling engolfing you
when all the doing has been done.

J. DeBellis 10/2/09