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Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #38 — I have so willingly parted with the world For Thy spirit’s riches aplenty: I marvelled at Thy blue and sky For dreams enchanted of Thy immortal scent. In waking or when drowned in the mire A sense of Thy sun my nourishing mead: Thy spirit moves me heavenward towards Thy light, While Thy feet pummel me down to dungeons dire. I parley with Thy spirit in my enamoured sanctum, My heart turns to Thy sunshine and bliss: I wrestle with Thee still and refuse Thy kiss In my moorland of pain and demented dream.

Poetry — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #37 — A brilliant edifice of mind stood still Like a dream-shape of perfect measure: In it lurked a spirit and a soul, Two in one in an infinite hour. One measured the flow of Time, While the other measureless remained afloat. A Godhead drew himself to dust and grime, And spirt and soul grew unbounded. Now the edifice unbridled and gold-limbed, With a master-form myriad-hued.

Poetry — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #36 — A pivot of all my stumblings Upon Thy spirit’s pedestal stands erect: Not just great timber or polished edifice, But a firm ground of Thy marvellous spirit. All Thy works into me pour and relish, Like dreams cast into a waking hour of Thy bliss.

Poem — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #35 — All Inspiration comes from Thee, Words draped in gold, silver and purple: All Speech Thy gift unto me; Out of Thy silence I joyously babble. My heart is Thine, my body Thy temple; Am a bright scribe of Thy impetuous will.

Poetry — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #34 — A conspiracy of Thee am aware of, Of Thy plans to scuttle my earthly bed; All comforts plucked away, all my grief Too, yet remains a gesture of Thy dazzling light. I am stripped bare and nude And through my skin pass Thy deathless air: I breathe now Thy vaster delight And in my marrow feel Thy hurricane-pressure. O what night can scare my stride Into Thy denser light and truth Or what pain fierce can defeat My dreams of Thy joy and mirth?

Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #33 — My enamoured thought is Thou, Leaping out of a sacred fire Into joy and mirth of Thy love, As if a child reaching for its beloved Mother. My impassioned heart is Thy temple, Built of Thy own edifice lent out: It is marbled and rubied of Thy smile, A rapture-sanctum of Thy ineffable light. My body is Thy playground, A battlefield of many woes, But in it Thy dreams wander bare and nude, As all my battle and struggle melt in Thy bliss.

Poem — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #32 — A twisted brain imagined Its brilliance was almighty God; When body coughed of cold, It thought God was sick and sneezed. A demented heart its own deity And godhead of perverse ecstasy. When its tubes ruptured and failed, It dying thought its Godhead too died. Some impaired nerves Bleeding profusely amid a crisis Died inglorious without knowing What God or Devil in them residing.

Poem — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #31 — Peace, peace, marvellous peace, Raining bounty of heavenly kiss Dreams, dreams hither into my brows With thy rapture-dance of immortal bliss. Come, come, impetuous of Grace; My heart and soul filled of thy presence.