The Romance

Let me be your fire.
When passions grow cold
whose faces stare with despair,
I will warm your senses
like colors of new-born spring
from sweet buds blossoming in air-
or song from the nightingale's romance-
to dreams oozing from your still eyes
before dark night is dead.

Shifting shadows, lost loves appear.
How they tease the mind,
impale a fragile heart.
But I your jinni-
as ubiquitous gods saved ancient day,
shall cloak you in the mysteries of my might
and by my duty keep
vigil at your side
until omninous night is safe.

Make me your harp,
even as the ocean sighs.
What if my waves are crashing
like its own?
The passion of our tone will wash
harmonies so sweet upon the shore
that lost stars be seen
and forsaken winds wail no more.

The seas of gloom,
dark antipathies flee,
and love reborn
out of the dying eve.

Copyright 2009 Francis Don Daniels

Ode To Birth

( A grim darkness blanketed all of Eire.
During battle the noble king, Nuada, lost
his hand and thus his reign.
To power rose the evil will of tyranny,
and suppressed all the while,
the People of Danu languished
across the land.
Being true to his creed,
the great healer, Dianceht, summoned
his powers to fit the mangled wrist of Nuada
with a silver hand, while Miach, his son, infused
it with human motion and feeling.
Grasping his Sword of Light, Nuada fought
his people free,
and Eire and the Tuatha D`e Danaan
flourished once again. )


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My love is solemn never to be alloyed,
tainted or colored, weakened and thus destroyed.
It is my nature from which all things abound,
phantasms of creation for worlds I found.
It is the holy spirit that which I am
as everlasting waters. I am the dam
that feeds the rippling stream and caring shoal
whereupon the burdened lie when journey's old.

And as with the dawn, I rise above the bank
annointing the fragrant lime about the shore,
to nourish the seeds of nectar from which I drank
and seal our rite together for evermore.

And knealing beneath my alter of the Earth,
I conjure with sacred verse which is my birth.

Copyright 2009 Francis Don Daniels

The Enlightenment

( Author's Note: The following text is inspired
by the philosophical works of L. Ron Hubbard,
to whom I am eternally grateful.)

I am touched by your aura
as with magical music and mystical wind.
Thousands of miles are but a grain of sand.

So it is you who make the seasons,
the earth which flows
from the mouth of the sea
to a perfect rose and majestic peaks.

( Even these words I write
are words written with a beauty
which is your hand. )

Spirit of Wine
with bouquet so sweet
the senses faint nearing it,
flood fragrant essence
in the air of my vine
and my limbs droop
limp with sweet drunkeness.

Creator of time without moment,
maker of space without place,
former of all things without form,
yet I feel your presence stirring
in the air like rays of sunlight soothing
my face.

Teacher of love and light,
by your example show the way
to the life of the eight circles, or dynamics,
which live in you.

To see
the harmony of the Universe
first begins with me.

Make me your comrade
to traverse the seas and shores
and help restore the light
to all the eyes of Earth:

The love and care for self,
for spouse and child
and friends and countrymen,
the Caucasian, the Negro and Mongol,
the flowering plants and budding trees,
animals, birds and the fishes of the seas,
for the planet on which we depend called Earth,
and beauty of all the beings of creation-
to journey upon the road of Infinity,
when we own again our godlike stature,
and live the grandeur
of Immortality.

Copyright 2009 Francis Don Daniels