VOLUME II

COMPLETE SONNETS IN ONE VOLUME

N.K.Tointon

BOOK I - A SEQUENCE OF INSIGNIFICANT SONNETS (1976)

"Love has but one form but many modes of expression".

A Third Book Of Poems,
Addressed To M.B.,
In Whose Distant Vision My Pen Finds Inspiration,
Being A Series Of Sonnets On The Theme Of Love
Delivered That My Reader May Find Pleasure
And That The More Thoughtful
May Find A Philosophy
In Its Noble Form.

Ed. 1.9.76
Ed. 4.4.77
Ed. 15.8.87
Ed. 30.11.99
Ed. 27.6.02
Prologue

1(1)			The heart will see the world the way it will
		the mind can but follow, stay here awhile,
		read on dear friend, may these humble lines fill
		your thoughts with self-reflection, let you smile 
		at that love that looses its life, saw only now,
		that third way divine, that sweet path innate
		that grips man in its vision, its power!
			Life is but a faint dream upon such sand,
		even reality cannot be faced,
		castles of the air are smashed by time's hand,
		only pure love can leave lovers embraced,
		only such thought can take you to that sought,
		have faith if that you seek you will be caught.

2(2)			But alas our fortune takes misfortune 
		for its wife in secret assignation,
		do what we may, what we will, we must soon 
		yield to present anguished resignation.
		No future second is sped before
		its time, no dream fulfilled before its hour.
		What train of suffering knocks at our door,
		what rails of pleasure keep alive, allow
		such a close wife to make her husband pain.
		"Accept nothing, expect nothing" is my 
		motto made, what can I possess - my name?
		If I take something I then loose it nigh,
		but hope is what I have, it cannot leave,
		could sadness ever be alone to grieve?

Act I

3(3)			Beside a lake, my sight hidden in tears,
		the distant swan there reminds me of her.
		What joy, what hope can I infer
		O humble creature beyond worldly peers,
		O graceful aristocrat without airs?
		Why do you look down into the water
		with your smooth neck bent forward so demur?
		Come soon O sweet answer to my prayers,
		draw near, distract my troubled heart 
		O swan for everywhere I have sought,
		her glances are like swift arrows that dart,
		in visions of her my being is caught, 
		how much longer must we be kept apart,
		O come mistress let us to love resort?

4(4)			I wander down wearily through these trees
		whose dark ranked corridors of cold despair
		have leafy mounds, grey roots, branches to bare.
		So bleak, bastard are long winters that freeze,
		what e'er hope had I to joyfully seize,
		to chance, to set in fixed existence here 
		a life long search for real truth won from fear.
		Alas, all's awash, no living mind frees
		the inner soul from its own pains and pleas
		for what is there in answer to my prayer
		but "to suffer out pre-elected fate"?
		O dismal trees you grieve not in my grief,
		you slumber on in death-like sleep and wait
		till summer comes upon you like a thief
		to steal away your peace, O what a weight
		hath the heavy heart lost in disbelief.

5(5)			Sat on a rock, questioned what love is there
		that I knew it not, knew no lover, none?!
		At last my heart broke, cried out in despair -
		"thou art where, must all faith fade like the sun"?
		What hope had I when this sour world saw me
		not, passed me by, could not answer my thought?
		But now I know the hour, in reverie,
		when we my Dearest let our hearts be caught
		and so these rough poems praise thy fair frame
		with its gold angelic hair, face so meek,
		that crystal mind, and tender love, that name
		to divine for my earthbound lips to speak.
		But what praise need thee O Immortal Muse
		these pale songs of love can only words use?

6(6)			Past, like a fleeting shadow, I caught sight,
		I met, and saw face to face in being, 
		another soul's world, this way of seeing 
	and then, from that instant, that friendly light 				lightened my lonely soul's abysmal plight
		to share in thought thoughts that need no speaking
		and from those dark depths it sped me fleeing 
		for our minds met naught taking but delight.
			So I welcome thee my Love, in this way,
		to declare what normal words cannot say 
		that our closeness knows no time nor distance 
		to make more, or less, of such an instance
		and to wish thee e'er sought by kindly fate
		that this world be less upon thee in weight.

7(7)			Love remembers its sacred times, its play,
		those short moments when we met, walked and spoke,
		those times we sat and touched, had naught to say,
		it knows the hours when we in dreams awoke,
		such blessed hours, hours of waiting, of joy,
		O Beloved such love has but begun,
		O Helen, sweet faced, like the horse from Troy 
		only we know what lies inside Fair One.
			We know , like the Greeks O Love, that man must
		act his part but some souls in life have more
		masks than mere one and stand aside from lust,
		like thee my Dove, as heaven's earthly door,
		O Perfect Mind in human form I bared
		my soul before thy sight and naught was said.

8(8)			"O Flowing Ocean so far beyond me
		I like to walk beside thee bathed in sound
		so sweet, so peaceful, so deeply profound.
		Thou sendest frail waves to make such music be
		and while I gaze upon thy distant sea
		my thoughts fly through those surface waves that pound
		to sink on down to where my mind had found,
		in being, the purest vision of thee.									O music of my mind come ye in art,
		let my inspiration ne'er leave  nor part,
	     	Come hither, forge unity that will bring
		all crafts as servant in this song I sing -		  
		"Of seas that ebb and flow there lies beneath
		an everlasting peace that knows no grief'."

Act II

9(9)a			Why do I tremble like a leaf, my Love,
		the fires of my heart have burnt away all 
		doubting fears, my eyes are lifted above,
		our minds lie naked to each other's call?
		O Dearest the wells of our love are deep,
		we find ourselves in each and each in Thee,
		so lead on sweet thoughts to embrace, to reap
		each other's kiss that seals our ecstasy.
			O be gone O fear, be lost, for in draws 
		those two closing eyes, now shut, now falling,
		through their death, flung, that tears our soul that soars
		on up, breaking past our lover's calling,
		crying out, and then, from our stillness slain 
		let our warm breath, our lips, give life again.

10(10)			O Beloved let not the light leave so
		lest we fail to gaze through those windows clear
		whose inner heaven have two stars to show
		these weary pilgrims' way on homeward there.
		One longing gaze, a second of thought said 
		all we need to say, and now we know our
		hearts are shared that our close felt thoughts are sped
		swift like the scented fragrance of a fl'wer.
			O heart canst thou defy the darkened sky 
		to lead the light of love to burn on bright
		upon our tender world of where we lie,
		face to face, letting faint sleep kiss the night.
		In our dreams thou dreamest of me, in mine
		I dream of thee, such love that drinks this wine.

11(11)		The gentle seconds slip away when I
		see thee my Love, this week seems but a day,
		yet the weeks without thee seem not to fly
		and drag on like the years that death defy.
		But timeless are the moments of our joy
		when such freedom grips us in its embrace,
		when love the sculptor chisels this fine ploy
		to capture our hearts in each other's grace. 
			Deepest of Love thou knowest the Divine,
		through thee the outer, inner worlds become
		the same, in our loss of self know the sign
		that sacred makes our understanding one!
		Into thy depths thou lead'st me by the hand,
		in this temple we sealed our loving band.

12(12)			In the mirror of the morning I see
		my human form draped like a ghostly sham
		with image of my aging face, only
		my Love can see me as I really am,
		and then, and only then, through reflection
		do I upon thee, thy inward goodness,
		come to see, in its stead, a same person
		like thyself, me, that thou hast shaped no less.
			Such love reveals its inward truth, behold
		how it grows deep within, O Infinite 
		Vision, that is forever there I am told,
		can man capture thee, force thee to submit?
		O Love must we not be free to pleasure
		these profoundest joys that know no measure.

13(13)			My Beloved know'st thou thy sacred name
		for thy real name is unknown to me O
		glowing Vision of Heaven all aflame?
		How can such beauty be now captured so
		in this sweet body that hides well its shame
		to think it has descended to such woe
		in this dim world, where it can lay no claim,
		desiring no part of this fleeting show.
			O Dearest I have been deep inside thee,
		a brightest light marks the very center
		edge beyond which these eyes can no further see.
		O Angel I knocked, thou let'st me enter,
		now our love stands outside time, knows it not
		that cruel hand that leaves false love forgot.

14(14)			Dearest thou hast no need to write to me
		we know what the other would have to say,
		when thou think'st of me I remember thee,
		when I think of thee in thy thoughts I stay.
		Like a wide window to each other's soul
		through our love we have the power to gaze 
		and there in our mental closeness bells toll
		our ever secret meeting in this maze.
			For all time in my house there is a room
		to which only thou and I have the key,
		here slain thou taketh me into this tomb,
		my access to thy never ending sea.
		There in this inward house I find my Love
		waiting like an angel sent from above.

Act III

15(15)			Thy fair image is but a faint copy,
		a distant reflection of thy heaven 
		made form thus what joy it must be for thee 
		to recollect this more perfect vision.
		Ah, but love lets us see what is hidden
		for it takes us and opens our eyes and 
		whispers to us what is not forbidden,
		embraces us as if our fate is planned.
			Yet no art nor craft have I to compare 
		thee O Inner Spirit compassionate,
		what catalogue could list thy virtues fair,
		what worldly words of mine could ever fit?
		O Loving Muse no pen need give to thee 
		the blessed gift of immortality!

16(16)			When thou art in pain thy distress is mine 
		to share as well, could I so hurt thee then 
		My Dearest, for such love knows no design
		that could e'er set out to prick itself when
		the pain, so painful made, would self make war?
		The merest thought of doing such a deed 
		would fill me with grief, self I can ignore 
		but to loose thee would break my heart indeed!
			So forgive me my faults, my Love, for I 
		know that through thee, in thy perfection made,
		I shall in time become more worthy of thy 
		love, to that extent more in equal trade.

		What joy, what hope thou giv'st to me each day,
		what flown night knows thee not when far away.

17(17)			So closely hast thou come unto now
		that thy death would be mine and yet no fear 
		have I of this for such love would allow 
		our hearts to take that path that brings us near.
		Now I hunger for my real food is thee
		who lets me live and in sweetest exchange
		thou giv'st to me a place to inward see
		how secret deep felt love can outward range.
			So fear thee not for love is no actor
		like self, that acts out its own parts in plays,
		for real love in closeness needs no censor 
		to postulate its many thoughtful ways.
		Thy love is so precious it knows no price,
		from thee thy glance alone would be suffice!

18(18)			Inward I see thy complete love of me,
		thy ev'ry look is pained with deep felt thought,
		I have thee wounded and fear to hurt thee 
		twice and in thy trust of me thou hast caught
		my heart which catches thee the more, alas!
		Fight no longer my Love, we must resign,
		let this selfless state capture us en masse.
		O Priceless One thou knowest my heart's thine
		for thou hast torn me from myself so I
		have naught left to give thee, thou hast all,
		so take these selfless thoughts of mine that fly 						fearless to thee and let no man e'er call
		our love a shallow love, but deep innate,
		for our purest faith trusts our helpless fate.

19(19)			O Vision that appears before me now
		art thou my Love flown from thy sleeping form,
		thee who tenderly waits for sleep to sour
		my restless sight amid this fevered storm
		whose darkness is cold and orchestrated 
		with rain filled winds that howl thy holy name.
		O Beloved my mind is so weighted
		I cannot meet thee while awake remain.
			Yet know I our hearts sense that secret date
		when our self-guided love shall find its place,
		when we, my Dearest, may unite our fate,
		when our hearts themselves shall press face to face,
		so I let the morning bid thee farewell
		for still I know that in our love we dwell.

20(20)			My tender Love is like a fragrant rose
		ne'er red nor white but plunged in flaming gold
		for so it seems that sweet light brightly glows.
		Ah, such love has pricked my soul for untold 						moments of my thought that I can but think 
		of thee alone, O heart, who aches to know
		this same mind that touches it with grief. Sink
		down O thought, embrace this inward world, show
		self the door that lets its fly fearless, free, 
		and stand in welcome that thy Love may grow 
		inside this vacant lot that houses thee!
			In toil I weeded and my tears did flow 
		to tend this sight lost hope, beneath this bloom,
		now happy its pure smile relieves my gloom.

Epilogue

21(21)			And so my friend, Dear Reader, thou hast read
		these poor fragments of my thoughts, confuse not 						the letters of my words for what is said 
		is that our Love Divine has left forgot
		those self made fears that keep us from such joy
		that we true lovers seek and should taste for
		fate knows its right time to deploy 
		its scattered blessings, to breath on our door.
			"O Beloved I find thee ev'rywhere,
		thy face appears to me in all mankind,
		in absence, when thou art not with me here,
		I feel thee not to be distant, nor blind,
		for now I see through thy surface being,
		thine eyes hav'st me blest with inward seeing"!

Supplement To Book I:
Additional Sonnets Written Between Books I and II

To Rex 

1(22)			Would that I could slip between these lines here
		to meet thine eyes yet all I wish is thee
		to see and ne'er thy glance, what worth is he 
		who can but ill compare to thy sweet fare 
		O `royal' rose, black rose, so perfect, rare?!
		Alas this ground can but thy shadow see
		and e'er the deep darkness of his soul be
		thine own shadow ‘tis light in his despair.
			O Rose why then dost thou lookest upon
		this worthless soil when thy sight caught thoughts prick
		this longing field with fruitless hopes, anon, 
		the fated winds will surely harvest pick
		what base soil, fl'wers cannot? O gentle knight
		take up thy sword and end this deathless plight!
 								(22/7/77)		

To Bill - Allusions to the Buddha Figure

2(23)		Where upon was this world formed, this plan laid,
		in which workshop was this kind image made,
		light alone stirs across this face of gold,
		lofty beams enshrine his tall statue bold,
		in parts diverse thy presence close is known,
		across this other world, material flown,
		melted thoughts fly with a compassion warmed?!

		Great are thy many works yet to be formed!

		Goodness is thy mark, grace thy other name,
		ageless spirit moves thy heaven shaped frame,
		yon deep shadow knows no darkened being,
		night and day transcend their distance fleeing,
		O sacred vessel in thy temple stand 
		receive tenfold thy blessing on this land!
							(17/4/78)

To Mike

3(24)			How oft' have I looked upon thy portrait,
		this pocket picture of thee that transports 
		my soul ever closer to thy sweet thoughts
		to feel those words that seal thy letters late.
			How oft' have I sought this heavenly state,
		forever sought thee in those holy courts,
		how I long to measure in thy reports
		master mistress in whose swift grace I wait.
			How oft' have I looked upon thee and knew 
		thee not to be the beloved of my 
		soul, what stirrings prompted this hope I sigh, 	
		what recollection sent me this review - 
		from all in all that my Love is Divine,
		One in all, I in thee and Thou in Thine?!
							(5/8/78)

To Philoctetes

4(25)			No hero Heracles am I and yet
		wild flames spring forth and dart across this brow,
		consume this weakly corpse, a pyre hast thou 
		kindled O noble youth, fire hast thou set.
			O sweet soul with one arrow Paris met,
		would that thou couldst deliver me this hour
		in similar fashion for the power 
		of sight leaves me to deathless to forget.
			Know when thou wouldst be alone this shadow
		would with thee be, and as fine Apollo
		ministered to thy sore feet to thee, all 
		in all, would serve same to thy statue tall:
			Yet, alas, this poet's license plays past
		thy mark of propriety unsurpassed?!
						(24/3/79)

To Philoctetes, A Second Sonnet

5(26)			Lilting waves tilt and spill upon the shore,
		sea-birds waft above the surf, golden sand 
		and brittle rocks melt in the sun, O tanned 
		Philoctetes take up thy flute and pour
		forth this despair, thy wounded feet are sore,
		dejected thy day is dying, thy band 
		of friends have left thee far away from land,
		to have naught to share time with leaves thee poor.
			Ebbing waters help phrase thy lines, help toss
		thin notes that bring a gentle horse to sound 
		thee out, in trust his faintest touch has found
		thee upon this desert isle of Lemnos,
		so light thy fire and share in thy rest O
		noble youth, in thy sleep forget thy sorrow.
							(27/3/79)

Sonnet On The Birthday Of My Father (June, the 13th)

6(27)			Cool branches have now opened to the sky
		leaving bare those airy supports to sigh
		quietly in the early morning mist,
		what damp birds can now hide in those dew kissed 
		filaments, what words can now paint this dismal
		time with cheer, such time sunk low, abysmal,
		and wherein is the use of such an hour
		that seems to have no purpose to endow?
			But nature fills its ev'ry entrance clear
		with meaning end mov/ed, meted out fair,
		so such empty time thus can only be
		a backdrop to highlight this mystery -
		'tween rustling foliage and winter's weak
		buds what could be born but something unique?!

A Series of Free Sonnets

A Free Sonnet On The Birthday Of My Mother (May, the 3rd)

7(28)		Autumn leaves
		may loose their trees,
		becoming free 
		thy float in air,
		in aging they glow
		greater than any 
		fleeting 
		youth filled flower.
		Like Persian carpets
		they clothe the fields,
		now rustling 
		singing speak
		when silence had them 
		bound before.
			(22/4/79)

8(29)		My lover is like myself a guy
		yet to me a god divine.
		His golden hair is like
		a swaying field of wheat
		that sets alight my passion.
		His visage - a gentle smile,
		his brazen chest - a warriors shield,
		his dagger sweet inlaid with ivory.
		His firm touch is like the softest velvet,
		his breath a single force
		that seals my fate with death
		ten thousand times.
		My lover is like myself a guy
		yet to me a god divine!
					(29/7/79)

The Return

9(30)			Waiting for my return
		I caught sight of him,
		he who is my love.
		Then his glance I caught
		and beckoning called me to his side.
		His soft touch took 
my breath away,
		and taking me under his arm I rested 
		my weary head against his face to kiss,
		and then placing my arms around
		his comfort waist I could hear
		the sweet rhythms of his heart
		and knew our separate deaths were
			 far away.
					(16/8/79)

The Farewell

10(31)		Time took its slow exit
		and once more lost sight of him,
			he who is my love.
		His farewell thoughts I caught,
		his presence as a trace I still felt,
		that gentle embrace that locked us,
			close,
		his kisses still warm upon my cheek.
		Fly quickly swift sighs,
		take all care of him - he who is my love.
		Then relying on the warmth of our bed
		I took leave of myself in distant thought
		happy that our lives forever feels 
			so close.
						(16/8/79)

BOOK II - A SECOND CYCLE OF SONNETS (1986)

A
Sequence
Of 25 Sonnets
Dedicated To
David
Being A Second Cycle
That Addresses The Theme Of
The Beloved
Who Is Far Away
But Forever
Near

12.7.86
29.8.87
30.11.99
27.6.02

1(32)			I envy what fortune finds this page held
		by him whom this sonnet addresses - sweet
		friend of Jonathan, manly in frame, fleet
		of foot, seeker of peace, just, well travelled,
		beloved prince whose strong arm beat and felled
		that taller man who in death took defeat
		from thy frail sling to see hist'ry repeat,
		inspiring these fine praises paralleled.
			O loving Muse, who hath entered my verse,
		my sighing thoughts lie before thee, embrace
		my artless lines that my fingers may curse
		that they cannot now write beneath thy trace
		that through touching ours souls could reimburse
		our affection with kisses face to face.

2(33)			I walked beside thee round the town below,
		an insightfulness found me in poverty,
		empty to thy talent rich and kindly,
		in thy light my life is but a shadow.
		I look upon thy visage fine and know
		no great temple's ransom could e'er buy thee
		back O Youth, thy true worth hath no earthly
		measure, nor misdeed thy dishonour show.
			On the escalator thou strok'st my back,
		on the bus I feel thy hand behind me,
		in the lift when all have left thou feel'st free
		to kiss, on the street our paths take one track,
		what virtues, what graces in thou I see,
		what sweet delight, what fortune follows me.

3(34)			The day's weary hunting will soon suspend
		as dogs and drivers, horses and riders
		near this wayside town, a trumpeter spurs
		this bedraggled procession's onward trend.
		Soon a banquet feast, singers singing rend
		the air with laments, dancers dance in furs,
		then fading laughter stills the night, a cat purrs
		sweet fatted contentment without an end.
			In the stealth of night thou stealeth away
		to embrace me, thy gentle breath warming
		my heated cheeks, thy cold nose informing 
		my weighted lips of our passionate play.
		O Love how I like to lie beside thee
		when hunter and hunted can equal be.
4(35)			What instrument by thee played will inflame
		my breast, I look deep inside thee seeing
		thou art musical for thy very being
		beside me here is music to my frame?
		Singing of love thy voice from heaven came
		soothing my world weariness, perceiving
		with joy what pleasure I find conceiving
		in the very thought of hearing thy name.
			O Angel from above bringing great joy
even in silence I replay thy voice,
		my knowing thee has let my spirits soar.
		What devils from below enchant this boy
		when he gently kisses and I rejoice
		before my death takes me away once more.

5(36)			Many lives have I painfully lived out
		and many lovers have I known too but
		thou, and thou alone, my Love hast now shut
		death's door and left all sad decay without.
		Thou art essential love itself, throughout 
		eternity I shall perceive thee to cut
		across all lesser forms of life that strut
		upon this stage, this worldly roundabout.
			O Beloved thine eyes let me see thee
		naked in bodily form and through its charms
		it captures my lesser self through this door.
		In history past thou hast transformed me
		and now I know thee again, in thy arms 
		happily awake to find thee once more.

6(37)			In this garden of my Love I here tend
		a tender plant, watering and weeding,
		preparing soil for its growing, seeding,
		resigned my labours can never intend 
		a life from acts of will nor harshly rend
		leafy limbs against their natures bleeding,
		knowing heavenly designs are leading
		all things, like flowers, to transcend and end.
			In this love of my Garden I have found
		a peace, my heart knows only sweet content,
		the living labours of my fruit consent
		to my soul's delight, song full birds resound
		in requiem chorals to death kiss day
		whilst scented perfumes caress night's delay.

7(38)			My arms encircle his waist whilst his thoughts
		caress this world his breath merging with mine.
		Drunk with love's pure nectar this deepest wine
		has well past our lips, in tem'prate ports
		no more our souls seek heavenly resorts,
		on woven carpets of floral design,
		under silken sheets, on pillows resign,
		floating into dreams on these sleepy supports.
			But alas the dawning days starts to break,
		must thou slippest away before I wake
		O Sweet Youth, leaving this garden forlorn
		lest loveless men scan our passion with scorn.
		O Love thy affection is beyond lust,
		thy inner warmth remains in faithful trust.

8(39)			I hear a tentative tap tapping knocking
		on my door, in delight I show him in
		with longing hugs and kisses that soon win 
		sweet caresses in embraces locking.
		Balanced he strokes me in gentle rocking,
		I resting feel his weary weighted chin
		upon my cheeks, his thinly bearded skin 
		brushing past my mouth, my tongue unlocking.
			Worlds in touching, overlapping are One,
		O Mind come closer my soul is yearning,
		seeking only thee in its discerning.
		O Love press closer my heart is burning,
		melting down all distances timely spun,
		forging a timeless love so newly won!

9(40)			What women with gifts could tempt thee, with dread
		I tell thee now a false self-attended
		queen comes to thy land to give, befriended -
		my name, my regards to thee on thy bed?!
		Rest I easier if it could be said 
		that this hurtful jest were half-intended,
		such impropriety has offended
		thee too without thy permission foresaid.
			Faithless this body of mine may well be
		but this faithful heart knows but one master,
		with some trepidation I say to thee
		my Arian shepherd is my pastor.
		Know O Love what pleasure is thine is mine,
		yet better that my pleasure could be thine.

10(41)			At night, when I fall asleep, in dreaming
		I get to see thee so far far away
		and from reflection upon our plight say
		four times distance can be made redeeming.
		How oft' think I of thee and daydreaming
		in reminiscence find memories stay 
		upon the circuits of our minds, replay 
		those sacred events in vivid seeming.
			But forget the past for future scheming
		for those pilgrims who find no inner way
		can contemplate travel by both night and day,
		see those sites held in holy esteeming.
		Then O Love thou hast entered these frail lines
		might I too be found within their confines?

11(42)			Thou tendeth flocks of sheep, countryside
		was thy home and now summoned to appear
		presenteth thyself without trace of fear
		walking proudly without airs of false pride.
		O Friend I am pleased to see thee, confide
		in me for I will temper that severe
		fate that would impede thy path, thy career
		through thy honesty is self-testified.
			Truly thou art noble, O Noble Youth,
		the more so being not by royal birth, I
		have looked deep inside thee, seen thy worth
		standing above worldly affairs aloof.
		With oil my hand shall have thee anointed,
		to rule this kingdom thou art appointed.

12(43)			Would that thou couldst death stab me with this spear
		dispatching this haggard unworthy wretch,
		the dark troubles of this fickle world etch
		themselves upon my aged brow to wear
		down my spirits, the toils of this state besmear 						themselves upon this frame, forever stretch 
		all sinews of my faith, crush this hope, fetch
		cold comfort from affect-blunted despair.
			Stealeth thou before my sleeping presence,
		armeth thyself with my spike, pilcheth my
		precious drinking cruse, joineth my defense!
		O what shame is this that I could not die,
		boastful spoils given back give more offence,
		what honour hast thou in my death defy?!

13(44)			Within the short space of time man can know 
		few things - he can act, he can wait, reflect
		upon these two divisions: transcend, inspect 
		his own acting, his own waiting so slow
		for value is found surging from below 
		in the life-world philosophers dissect,
		I entertain `waiting', with all due respect,
		upon thy letter in the post to show.
			Then the heavens meet earth for I have scanned 
		those lines more musical than mine, free
		and tuneful, so forceful in their command.
		O Angel godly sent who smote this land
		sweet letters in words, words in letters be
		best delivered from thy lips by thy hand.

14(45)			Best kept secrets are hard to keep contained,
		we lovers met and swore a lover's pact
		but alas the true knowledge of this fact
		is now on all lips unrestrained.
		Careless love has this sacred trust profaned
		letting sheer synchronicity subtract
		a hidden passion from our attentive act
		re-presenting our friendship pre-ordained.
			They say of thee that thou art a noble youth,
		that such devotion is to be admired 
		before marriage's long obligation.
		I say of thee, not in jest but in truth,
		thy inner talents are to be desired,
		that I might be found accommodation.

15(46)			Thy northerly direction compares well
		to that polar star far away that when
		I see it I think of thee, bright beacon
		to my Love, and here, in these lines, tell thee
		thy charted stars are trined and cusped dwell
		like mine which when married together then
		reforms thy star six-pointed, a token 
		to that light that casts us under this spell.
			Sympathetic harmonies are fated,
		no choice have we in whom we love but how,
		that I love thee I know unabated.
		Still for me there's fear being parted now 
		that other meetings more heavy weighted
		in worry will rest the same upon thy brow.

16(47)			I propose to thee, my Love, an inward
		meeting of minds, an inner made marriage,
		so that thou wouldst always know that this carriage
		of our pure devotion, self-entered, could 
		swift deliver us through thought's own reward
		into each others' company and page
		our fond attention, make love, take umbrage
		if either were to cut this knotted cord.
			Alas my arms no longer now embrace 
		thy treasured waist nor take thy warmth for mine
		and in other arms find some other face
		to give kisses that would have been now thine,
		but I love and in its passionate brace,
		knowing that I shall soon see thee, resign.

17(48)			In the shimmering light of summer's sun
		under a thin rain forest canopy
		he and I in the long grass overrun
		cuddled beside this ponded river free
		and seeing fishes swimming hither shun 
		us not in our happy heated play we 
		put our hands in the water and soon won 
		two tickled trout still swimming happily.
			The rippling clear water was cool and we
		were hot, all grass dusted with seeded chaff,
		looking into the depths innocently 
		kissing disrobed ourselves and with a laugh
		fell in arm and arm to passionately
		embrace the other in our gentle bath.

18(49)			Although thy faithful image is well burned
		onto my mind with vivid fidelity
		thy pocket sized portrait is kept closely
		to my breast so that when this self is concerned
		to think of thee he, when alone, has turned
		to find again this fine photography
		that more easily allows fantasy
		to give life to shape, shape to life discerned.
			Thy merit outpaces my lack of style,
		O Thoughtful Friend, who inspires me to write 
		to thee like this, forgive my hopeless lines,
		now bound in thy service sees life worthwhile
		yet fear an inspection before thy sight
		that I insult thee the more with my rhymes.

19(50)			Two bright lights have I that do love this land,
		this sun and moon, but this Sun I see 
		by nightly dreams flown far away to thee,
		my daily moon me seeing sleep first hand.
		Alas I sought but one light, understand
		I perceive two dear loves compliment'ry,
		for through opposition this moon warmly 
		heats, this Sun sweetly cools this patient hand.
			In the Divine Love of World world is One,
		this world about is lit by one star seen
		yet before Thee all is dark in thy sight.
		Love transports me to see Thee unbegun
		there before all creation unseen,
		through Love all lights are met in One Delight.

20(51)			O what fate foretold me by thou in haste,
		as thou partest from before my presence,
		to see me again thou wished me thence,
		that I, and I alone, be in thy love graced.
		I would have locked my arms around thy waist,
		let thee fly me to thy fair residence,
		but alas, I'm left here in my suspense
		seeing great honour in this office placed.
			Fairest Angel whose hair is like a field 
		of golden hay, whose sword is sweet inlaid 
		with ivory, before thee I have kneeled,
		to serve thee well in this world I have prayed,
		I would carry thy armour, bear thy shield,
		die for thee that thy love be best repaid.

21(52)			In love of me thou hast built an altar,
		in love of thee I would be thy sacrifice
		yet to worship one person and entice
		from them an equal commitment I fear
		is graven idolatry and swear 
		such possession sought is not love precise
		but passion materialized, suffice
		that I love thee much for thy friendship dear.
			In my relations with thee a deep love
		embraces us and this greater fortune
		is found and made in the heavens above,
		for this psychic estate is left immune
		from mere summation of the material,
		and us commits to the spiritual.

22(53)			Thou hast left thy blessing upon me 
		yet my self is not worthy of thy touch,
		before thee I am naught and thou art much
		yet in loving thee my salvation be.
		May thy countenance shineth upon me,
		lifteth me up, receiveth me, maketh much
		of the good in me, diminisheth such
		evil as thou findeth and set me free.
			Thou art lovely, comely, truthful beauty
		incarnate, let me therefore seek
		to discover, equal thy heavenly 
		lent perfection, realize thy unique
		purpose so that I may come before thee
		and come to measure well in thy critique.

23(54)			An Angel hath captured me in a flight
		of ecstasy that so transported me
		I stood before thy courts to inward see
		thy Love knows no bounds, O Purest Delight
		why taketh thou pleasure then in my sight
		when the Divine Thought reviews self, earthly
		based, t'is in that measure good mirrors thee -
		O Golden Glow enhaloed in God's Light.
			Two sticks of tinder rubbed together in time
		deflect a humble spark that fires a flame
		that spreads about to self consume and tame
		those fiery passions, so might seal and prime
		this sweet compact of Soul to self ordain
		that Love may sigh once more, may look again?!

24(55)			I hail thee Heroic Youth whose strong arms
		do slayeth lions and bears, tameth wild
		horses that move through rainforest hills, mild
		are thy manners and sweet thy many charms.
		In thought of thee my musing mind becalms 
		my troubled breast for thou art he who smiled 
		upon my estate, upon myself piled
		praises that I return to thee in psalms.
			All hail to thee O Valiant Youth, entice 
		me to my death in thy embrace, fate shows 
		us no mercy in leaving thee alone
		and yet I hear gentle waves of paradise
		murmuring on the beach for my heart knows
		that inward love sees my Beloved known.

25(56)			Thou art like art itself, a fine picture,
		a well done drawing depicting fairer 
		youthfulness, deft nature could not sculpture thee
		the better, nor paint paint thee dearer.
		Thou art comely, a fine inspiration 
		flows from thy fingers, moulding what they will,
		talents too many for mere exhibition
		gather all about thee and gather still.
			What can I a part-time poet give thee
		in sweet exchange, forgive me then therefore
		for I question thy immortality
		could flow from my scratching pen once more?
		Enjoy my erotic sketches my friend,
		well you may laugh and trade me what you send.

Appendix To Book II:
Additional Sonnets Written Post Book II

26(57)			Thy fairest frame maketh the finest scene
		that my love-lit eyes could e'er wish to see,
		thy sculptured form maketh those landscapes be
		the lesser vision, no rainforests green
		nor waterfalls nor crystal creeks serene
		could compete before thy topography,
		now captured in thy sweet morphology
		my longing homesick heart has thee foreseen.
			More beautiful are these sensuous shores
		that fall around thy mountain folds, let ebbing 						tides rise, curl alongside this gilded sand, 
		possess my dreaming self and it give cause
		to speed onward like a wind sped wave bedding 
		down to caress and splash this sun-tanned land.

27(58)			What nature hath love that it can defy 
		all time and space for now this self from thee
		further be yet this heart each day can deny 
		thee not and the closer beside thee be.
		In thought I feel my self already sped
		to think of thee and find thy self warmly
		thinking of me and through good patience led 
		wait on pressing fate to press more closely.
			What gloomy thoughts well match this winter town
		more cold than mine and far colder than thine,
		what dreary weighted thoughts could beat this frown:
		yet hopefulness issues forth from one sign -
		for this sun in breaking through these clouds now
		warms me well must warm thee more this same hour!

28(59)			Mine eyes dreamt I saw thee, these hands took thine,
		yet now in closer looking see thee naught,
		alas, my touch in searching extension
		between these sheets leaves this vision uncaught.
		The dimmer light of night gives way to dawn
		and shows in high relief thy comely form
		no longer lies beside me this breaking morn,
		no longer can embrace me, make me warm.
			Molest me O grief through heavy sadness
		and take pleasure from his vivid absence,
		we together no longer lie in this 
		same bed - only remembered recompense,
		yet sweet exchanges with `thee' imprinted
		coin common currency fresh re-minted.

29(60)			O sovereign lord who commands my desire
		thou knowest my thoughts, I - thine, one burning
		look and thou hast lit this passionate fire,
		one glance and my love for thee is yearning.
			O sovereign lord whose strong arms embrace me,
		whose tender touch has stroked my blissful back,
		I look into thy eyes and truly see
		the end of life I here must re-enact.
			O sovereign lord, whose fiery kisses thrill,
		lead on to ecstasy and let my soul
		wrestle with thee and in this struggle kill
		me that sweet death itself can take its toll.
			Love I a well armed warrior man and know
		the sure torments of combat must follow.

30(61)			The Sunday strollers pass me by this day
		and thinking of thee wonder if thou art 
		alone or like these courting couples play 
		a similar game with some sweet counterpart?
		Know dearest friend, so far away, I would 
		now be there with thee if that would please thee,
		if I could, but alas must take hope good 
		pleasures can give thee the better comp'any?
			I walk on slowly in resignation
		and remember all those good times and try
		to transcend this painful assignation
		desiring desires, that self preoccupy,
		finding what joy is shared is greater made,
		becomes one joyfulness in equal trade!

31(62)			The psychic proximity of thy self 
		gives me great relief and shutting these eyes
		kiss thee once, twice, three times and in a wealth 
		of dream then feel thee, find thee in surprise.
		Ah, thy mouth is sweet delight and thy touch,
		more like a feather light, is gentle felt
		yet firm, insistent, reels me in for such
		a hand thou hast on me is heaven dealt.
			Come, move closer my faithful friend and share
		what thou givest me drawing from this well
		equal pleasure for thee for now I hear
		and see what deep felt sighs still inward dwell.
		This perfect paradox that I should be 
		in thee and that thou art found firm in me.

32(63)			With sunrise remember sunlight did bleach
		thy hair, cut fine like well harvested hay,
		highlighting thy perfect Grecian looks, each
		waiting for the other to start the day.
			With high noon recollect those beach had days
		relaxing on cool-heated breeze swept sand,
		hearing warm waters tumble wash those bays
		when we walked this solitude hand in hand.
			With sunset revisit those lofty peaks
		that did review the dying day below,
		permitting the darkness to kiss those cheeks,
		fresh anticipating passion's ebb and flow.
			Yet far far sweeter was the moon's pale light
		that did let me watch thee throughout the night.

33(64)			The lapping waters of the channel here
		mirror the swell beyond the lengthy mole
		and with a gentle rise and fall prepare 
		us sailors for a more unsteady roll.
		The air is fresh, alive with gulls in flight,
		careless breezes caress and smooth the brow
		of this harbour, this haven of delight,
		consecrating the pleasures of this hour.
			Forever precious is the time spent with friends,
		especially with those we love so well
		for then the journey made transcends those ends
		that limit and restrict self-bound travel.
		Today I'm happy and will always find
		the smaller things more thoughtfully designed.

Supplement To Book II:
Additional Sonnets /Sonnet-Forms

65. (Vol.IV, 14) The Alchemist

	Modern man has no need for alchemy
for now the world is in a state of flux,
in constant change, now we desire a place
that knows no chaotic repetition,
a house built in bold bricks of time and space
that will endure without transformation,
only give us still a philosopher's
stone for problematic resolution?
	Alas, transmutation must firstly be 
of self, those heroes of the past would know
this well, and here all the best intentions
must be demonstrated, must be put on show.
May the insightful person see how fired
gases of melted earth rise up inspired!

Three Drinking Sonnets (66a,66b,67)

66a.	On Reading Various Translations Of 
			The Ruba'iyat Of Omar Khayyam

	Tell me, make known, for I would like to know, 
where doth lie the true heart of poetic verse,
where be its inward home, be it in terse
said words, or bedded down in some flowery show,
or is it deeper still beyond a mansion
of perfect phrases all metered and bound
in rhymes of settled rhythm that give sound
one wedded virtue that the gods might sanction?
	O boy so persistent, pleading, pouring 
a first glass of wine, what eloquence I find
in your entreaty, in those tresses signed
in gold lines more elegant, restoring
life to antique parchment, a toast for sure
as sober death must drink those few drops more?

66b.	(First Version) On Reading Various Translation Of 
			The Ruba'iyat Of Omar Khayyam

	Tell me, make known, for I would like to know, 
where doth lie the true heart of poetic verse,
where be its inward home, be it in terse
said words, or bedded down in some flowery show,
or is it deeper still beyond a mansion
of perfect phrases all metered and bound
in rhymes of settled rhythm that give sound
one united virtue that gods might sanction?
	O boy, before me, who insists on pouring 
a first glass of wine, what eloquence I find
in your entreaty, in those tresses signed
with gold lines more elegant, reassuring,
than found on antique pages dusted, for sure
one toast, perhaps followed by a few drops more?

67.	That Poets Might Be More Honest In Their Use Of Gender!

	Alas, would but this simple lad now come 
more forward to not lie with me, tell others 
those quaint tales that simply be not true, dumb
fickle fictitious confections, blunders 
without substance that switch a feminine 
word she for he when if honest reason 
be known this tender hearted affection 
all longing heated sprung sings in treason
the same travelling song upon the same 
old unstraightened path, anon, without doubt
this noble full bodied loving should name
itself as that passion that did in deed flout
those painful conventions that kisses might tame
this inflammation deep sighs once more inflame.

68.	As Like Scattered Due Drops Upon The Lawn

	A rais/ed hand in gesture of a toast
a drunken slip and dew drops fall upon 
the down of manly beard, then thin apron
like strings of dribbled wine rejoin to boast
that this slightest slurring on the landscape,
more like a newly planted seedling hedge,
or fresh laid lawn soft and supple in edge,
might well delight the older friend - they shape 
their farewell passage for the heat of day 
now slips away through departing kisses
to meet in deep sleep the dawn that misses
these beads of morning sweat lovers betray.
How sweet the spring-time of mutual pleasure
that grows more fond when drunk in double measure.

69-75   A Cycle of Six Sonnet-like Verses from Vol.I Bk.III.
5.[73]  An Ode To The Importance Of The Art Of Dance
								          (1/3/88)

1.	All hail to music born and lost in divine dance,
let such harmonies honestly entreat and seek
the ongoing resolution of wayward chance,
rise upward O soul and tear asunder those weak
bonds that bind us, prevent us from tasting such trance!

All hail O mighty lovers of earthly delights,
revive sweet movement to unseen spirits and sprites,
inspire music that it may lift itself in flight
and tempt the battle ear of those weary titans high
above us lowly mortals who heavenward sigh.

All hail to the lofty Gods who ne'er cease to hear
the dance of life, the surging of that ceaseless force
that moves the world, distils the hopeful heart in prayer,
restores enchanted being to its rightful source.

2.	All hail to music made greater through song and dance
that moves the soul to exercise this earthbound frame
of ours that through falling forward lumbers along,
such sweet harmonies made more tangible will drain,
reclaim this marshy ground, a better life proclaim.

Beat the drum and music make, conduct the singing,
announce the first dance, hear the music beseeching
an audience with our feet and hands now tapping,
our breath marking out time to a pulse fixed and free
while our measured bodies are left swaying gently.

Everything has its own rhythm, all things natural
postulate themselves with a tidal to and fro
on the stage of the world, behold at the peril
of our soul our failure to follow this lawful flow.

3.	The whole world dances before us, chaos itself
is structured by thee, fluctuates to reorder
the cosmos, recreating a new world of wealth 
every moment in the registered recorder
of this choreographed ballet of vibrant health.

Dance itself is the healing of body and mind,
a restoration of the spirits that rewind
a ravaged soul, sentic salvation in design
that unravels emotional knots that belie
the painted face that re-presents what we deny.

Affective balance is met when we entertain
the sounds of sadness and happiness, love and fear,
anger and frustration, and all other forms of pain,
marking out straight our path homeward in this world here.

4.	Divine Apollo could know thee not, the sweet flutes
of Pan could neither resist thy nimble feet,
the brave Orpheus sounded despair but the fruits 
of love immortalized him, if all the gods meet
with such delights could we forget our deeper roots?

Like a tree swaying in the breeze or leaf fallen
upon the ground the dance of human life swollen
with the insistent force of its own inner call
responds with the sounded movements that quickly draw
the many social dancers moving out onto the floor.

Around they go like autumnal leaves, on the spot
they then stand like tall trees shimmering in the wind,
unholy belief equates dance with death, cannot 
we say in truthful stead they that dance not have sinned.

5.	All hail to the transcendental delights of dance,
sweet forms that spell out explicit all the rituals 
that sacred make those relationships that enhance
our well-being here, and which through courtship reveals
to the earthbound souls of lovers timely romance.

As dancers how we long to hold his enchanted
hand, or the hand of she, in whom well implanted
we find the fruits of the heavens reverb’rant,
in whose simple touch we find the sure seal that can
link our love with theirs, enfold us within one plan.

No diff'rence then between lovers, family or friends
for the loving bonds of the relationship are 
met and sealed, revealed through the dance that attends
upon the way we meet all such phenomena.

6.	O Beloved, who dances divinely before
this humbled self of mine, am I not now through thee
made the more perfect from thy persistent touch for
through thy dancing onward patiently beside me
thy encouragement maketh me to step more sure.

From the naturalness of dance we learn how apt
is the well seized moment that comes before us, rapt
as we are in this frenzied world that would entrap
us otherwise, for as the free beings we are
should we forget to dance we cease to travel afar.

Hail, all hail to the wide world of dance that uplifts
the lower soul into the arms of a higher force,
hail, all hail to the ways of dance that heal those rifts
that direct all forms of love onto one straight course!

76. (Vol. V, 58) One More Seaside Sonnet

In dark and wet confines of drifting night 
did hear the sweet heart-beat of washing sea
faintly thudding gently on the silv'ry 
line of surf that signalled such close delight.
And floating o'er this tidal flood in flight 
found my flowing thoughts entwining freely
in one lengthy embrace, in an ecstasy 
ne'er dreamt of, ideas surging with insight...
Anon, the steady rhythms of the rain 
upon the roofing tin released that sleep 
unsought and entering this dreamy world,
all brightly lit, met a travelling train 
of white capped waves arising from the deep;
this land re-kissing with lips moistly curled!

77. (Vol. V, 97) History As One Long Interwoven Story

Life is like a series of twisted ends
that never quite meet and never quite end,
a knotted fabric of strings that pretend
to have a start and a finish, but bends
and bumps and that yarn soon comes to a stop
to be surpassed by the latest gossip,
how distracting then a story started
and before you know it your've departed!
So how then did that story unravel,
so rudely interrupted through travel;
could life ever have a happy ending,
an afterlife forever transcending
those eternal themes in variation
that link this chain in one long narration?

78. (VIII.III.8)
A Free Sonnet On The Praise Of Silk Pyjamas

Although I love the feel of thick leather
I prefer my man in silk pyjamas,
in stripes or dots, it makes no difference,
in paisleys, plain or patterned, in floral
undergrowth from tropical rainforests,
in pictorial mode or symbolic relief,
this sensual material enfolds
his soft contours, so, playing hard to get,
he signs an all too visible message
that soon needs to find my personal address;
so with thankfulness I have learnt to praise
these wriggling creatures enveloped, cocooned
within this woven, shimmering package
sacrificed for such outrageous postage.

79.	(VIII.V.17)
Mangroves Revisited (a. Kenneth Slessor)

Seen shooting straight upward mud splattered tree stems
Emerge from the tidal mangrove margin...
How many greying widows with frayed hems
Seem to stand here upside down, and half grin?
From the board-walk... leaning, my reflection
Dimly superimposes itself lightly
On the murky gloom under inspection;
Like the bush this scene too was thought unsightly.

Now revisited these living waters,
When probed, find a new meaning - a gull flies
Low through the dark, umbrella sheltered air...
Thus 'tis the fashion these swamps are seen through deeper eyes,
List'ning to nature survival's taught us
To think again, to "take care... take care... take care.…"

80.	(VIII.V.Epilogue)
Epilogue: Sydney Out Celebrating Itself

	How oft of late my love has grown so strong
for this urban-town with such a manly name,
how oft hath this look of love fed this flame
of my sweet, heaven sent, earthly vision,
those deep thoughts packaged in desires that long
to find with unexpected flair that fame
that so undeservedly will take this name,
that heartfelt essence, now beating in this song.
	Now booms the cannons from this harboured port
and banging loud fleeting fireworks light the sky,
well marshalled music with a throbbing bass
joins forces in a chorus laser taught
to keep time with images before the eye	
that, alas, only praise this more public face.