Romance Abounds

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Romance Abounds

Candles lit in a swiftly darkening room
Bringing new light to the dusky gloom.
A wine bottle cooling on the window sill
Two goblets sparkling ready to be filled.
Wine and candlelight seek to enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

A table laden with savories
Is waiting in the warm room for me.
A fire dances in the glowing grate
I am ever so grateful I was not late.
Savories and firelight seek to enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

You come to me with ease and grace
A look of wondrous love on your face.
I moan a sound of gentle surprise
When I see flames flickering in your eyes.
Grace and flickering flames enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

You take my hand, put a goblet in it
I did not notice the pouring bit.
For I was floating in a moment timeless
My body alive but utterly mindless.
Goblets of floating time enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

When your lips at long last meet mine
I am drunk from your attention, not wine.
When you pull me along with a smile
All you have done is more than worthwhile.
Lips that taste of smiles enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

Against The Foggy Night

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Against The Foggy Night

I do not want your constant care,
Nor seek your presence to be always there.
I do not need to be your whole world,
Nor seek for my cup to be overfilled.
I just need to see the strengthening sight
Of your silhouette against the foggy night.

I do not need you to run with me,
Nor seek the comfort of your company.
I do not need you to hold my hand,
Nor seek you to love me as only you can.
I just need to see the strengthening sight
Of your silhouette against the foggy night.

I do not need your compliments,
Nor seek your approval to be confident.
I do not need your criticism or praise,
Nor seek your attention to brighten my days.
I just need to see the strengthening sight
Of your silhouette against the foggy night.

When The Moon Is Full

From “The Poems Of John H.Watson”
Reprinted By M.Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

When The Moon Is Full

When the moon is full in the Summertime
My lover dances with the fireflies.
Bare feet step on the velvet lawn
Dancing for me till the chorus of dawn.

When the moon is full in the Harvest time
My lover feasts on a bounty fine.
Giving me bites of sweet plum and pear
Running fingers through my windblown hair.

When the moon is full in the time of Spring
Flowers and green herbs my lover brings.
Brews a soothing tea of Lemon-balm
Kissed with clover honey sweet and warm.

When the moon is full in the Wintertime
My lover beds me in woolens fine.
Makes a toasty nest against the frost
In comfort and love we both are lost.

When the moon is full tonight my love,
Evening glistening from the light above,
Let me show you the moonscape’s gleam.
Taking you lovingly on silver moonbeams.

Close

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Close

Close, my love, you are far away,
Thinking thoughts of another day.
Far from seeking touches tender.
Far from loving’s keen surrender.

Close, my love, I need to see you,
Open-handed, smiling as you do.
When you gift me with attention.
When you pull in my direction.

Close, my love, let there be no gap,
Let your arms around me wrap.
Hold me in your blithe embrace.
Hold me till my pulse doth race.

Close, my love, enter my halls,
Pulling down cold stony walls.
Tread fleetly to the inner chamber.
Tread fleetly to catch the biding embers.

Close, my love, warm my gelid room,
Chase away the dark and gloom.
Pull me into your thermal sphere.
Pull me into your thoughts sincere.

Close, my love, encompass me,
Make me see all that you can see.
Take me into your precious mind.
Take me where I will not be blind.

Close, my love, I am lost and needy,
Come closer to the heat of my body.
I want you as close as the very air.
I want you to be as close as you dare.

Close, my love, do not have a fear.
For I will whisper in your trembling ear,
Enchanted words to make you clearly see.
Enchanted words to bring you close to me.

A Poem For A Wedding

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

A Poem For A Wedding

A wedding day is day of culmination
Of two lonely souls with determination,
Following mazes and paths overgrown,
To find each other and make each their own.

A wedding day is a day of glorious victory.
A peace earned through fighting gallantly.
Battling foes wrought by happenstance,
Finding a partner for a victory dance.

A wedding day is a day of thanksgiving.
Thankful for one who makes life worth living.
Thankful you found a heart of pure gold.
Humble in thanks for someone to hold.

A wedding day is a day of celebration.
Family and friends united in exaltation
Of the ancient rite of matrimony.
Giving and taking the one you love only.

A wedding day is a day of mirth and gaiety.
Highlighting the vows of great solemnity.
Two hearts are joined  making just one,
One strong heart to face what has begun.

Stolen From Time

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Stolen From Time

Now in Eighteen Hundred and Eighty Four
I chanced on something never seen before.
A mix of chemicals, a flash of light,
A magic image appeared to my sight.

Here in my two hands was a photograph.
Captured my love in the midst of a laugh.
An astonished gasp arose in my throat,
An image so clear as ever was wrought.

Not by an artist but a chemist skilled.
I was taken aback, utterly thrilled.
I could see the laugh lines creasing the brow,
The edges of lips curled as they are now.

Looking at me looking at you defined,
Looking at a moment stolen from time.

A Poem For July

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

A Poem For July

Meet me in the garden, Fair Maid July.
Round about the time of the fireflies.
I will wait while bonny breezes blow,
Looking for you where the roses grow.

Honeysuckle vines scent your way,
Blending with the heat of the day.
To make a perfume soft and fair.
Most captivating in the heady air.

Wear your gown of yellow flax.
Woven from the ripening stacks.
The finest linen wrought with care,
Blue winking flowers in your hair.

Dragon lilies will trumpet a call
Hailing your presence to one and all.
I will wait till the sun has set
In the quiet garden for our tete-a’-tete.

Fair Maid July has come at last,
As she has done in Summers past.
Sultry beneath the sweet plum tree,
Tempting me with roses and poetry.

Quiet Love

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Quiet Love

The morning sleep still in your eyes,
You smiled at me and I glowed inside.
Over coffee steaming hot and strong,
You buttered my toast and passed it on.
While I was reading the daily paper,
You threw down a journal for me to read later.
Then opened the curtain to let in the light,
Stopped as you passed to squeeze my hand tight.

This quiet love on this simple day
Means more to me than I can say.

The morning passed in sweet quietude,
With busy work and things to do.
You noticed my melancholy mood.
Asked me to join you, if I would,
On a walk and then a proper tea.
As if you do not do enough for me.
Taking my coat, you helped me on with it
You caressed my shoulder and lingered a bit.

This quiet love on this simple day
Means more to me than I can say.

In the evening you built a bright fire.
The light reflecting my growing desire.
You sat by my side contemplating the flames.
Your eyes all aglow, your mind far away.
Reaching, unseeing, you grasped my arm.
Here by our hearth, so safe and warm,
You turned towards me bathed in firelight.
Your face full of innocent trust in the night.

This quiet love on this simple day
Means more to me than I can say.

Love Is A River

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Love is a River

Love is a river that flows to the sea.
It starts with a tear of gladness.
You can not believe that another can be
Someone who gives you such happiness.
The teardrops that fell
Join with others as well.

Love is happy tears that make a pool,
Overflowing with feelings pure.
Bubbling rivulets, sweet and cool,
Seeking release, strong and sure.
Numerous rivulets join as one
Sparkling joyfully under the sun.

Love is a brook, chortling free.
Exploring like a child on a Summer’s day.
Wandering past wildflowers and trees.
Playing with wild things along the way.
A brook so bright and fresh
Giving you peace and rest.

Love is a river that flows to the sea.
Brooks growing steadily till a river’s running.
Mighty and wide carving deeply
Into your heart, forever increasing.
Tears, brooks, river and sea
Let me show my love to thee.

London Is My Queen

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From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

London Is My Queen

London is my Queen.
Her voice fills my dreams.
Foggy eves; Merry days
Wish I never went away.
London is my Queen.

When I was just a lad
I traveled with my Dad,
On a ship with sails so vast,
A crow’s nest on its mast.
I watched the titanic sea,
Saw dolphins swimming free.
On the horizon Australia’s shore,
A white haven of ancient lore.

But London is my Queen,
Her voice fills my dreams.
Foggy eves; Merry days
Wish I never went away.
London is my Queen.

When I became a man
I went to Afghanistan.
Although my stay was brief,
And ended all in grief,
I remember a waterfall
Green gardens behind a wall.
Luscious fruit and growing vines,
A Shepard girl, graceful and kind.

But London is my Queen,
Her voice fills my dreams.
Foggy eves; Merry days
Wish I never went away.
London is my Queen.

Oh, Lady Paris fair!
I am always happy there.
Her open heart and laughing eyes
Pull this Englishman inside.
Springtime sun and sudden showers
Gives a wondrous look to her Eiffel Tower.
Who could not cheer and clap their hands
For the joyous beauties that dance the can-can.

But London is my Queen,
Her voice fills my dreams.
Foggy eves; Merry days
Wish I never went away.
London is my Queen.

London streets are filled with crowds,
Horse hooves on cobbles, cabbies loud.
Londoners calling in their favorite form
Of English, proud of where they were born.
London’s North-side, South-side, East and West,
All bring a certain warmth to my breast.
I would be happy, never more to roam,
If I could but return to London my home.

London is my Queen.
Her voice fills my dreams.
Foggy eves; Merry days
Wish I never went away.
London is my Queen.