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Best Poems From
GREENWOLFE 1962
(MARCH 23, 1951)
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93.
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Warrior Swan
Born a Virgin Diplomat
To die a Warrior Swan.
Most of them just didn't fit,
The guises I put on.
I wished for all life's colors.
Broad purple, pink, and green.
Most of them, long since turned grey.
The rest, I've never seen.
I lost it all quite early,
As was to be my fate.
But as a fan of romance,
I never chose to wait.
I did escape, and often.
But never flew away.
I hoped to see the colors.
Perhaps, by chance, someday.
That's why I've come full circle.
Who knows what track I'm on?
Journeys once of many days,
Now end before the dawn.
Whatever thoughts may plague me,
I've wings to fly away.
A quiver full of arrows,
To pen mark every day.
With much to write, and often.
And less to dwell upon;
I have not missed my calling,
To be a Warrior Swan.
GREENWOLFE 1962
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94.
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Waste Love
Don't be afraid to turn me down.
It never has been free.
And I'm prepared to pay the price,
The cost of loving thee.
Rejections are the common dues,
The fees for what I do.
Finding souls who I can love,
And losing ones like you.
Though most lost loves just walk away,
As often as it's done;
I much prefer rejection's sting.
So please, just turn and run.
And don't leave out the parting words,
The ones some always fear.
The ones, somehow devoid of truth;
Which make it oh so clear.
The best of all these parting words,
That I am just a 'bore'.
Is just so bland and insincere,
It's easy to ignore.
And don't forget the crucial thing
So valued here on earth.
The note that says someday I'll find
The girl who knows my worth.
These truly are such mirthful words
I'm bound to go away,
Joyful and content again.
To die, once more, this way.
You know, of course, just who she is.
The one around the bend.
The one that's waiting just for me.
The one that God will send.
The one, that could be anyone.
Just anyone, but you.
The one for whom I yearn this day,
For whom my love is true.
Yes anyone but who you are,
Is suited just for me.
It's only those I've never loved;
Who love me, don't you see.
This, of course, is what you mean.
And that's what brings me joy.
The myraid of reasoned words
Girls use to dump a boy.
So go ahead and turn me down,
Reject my love so true.
I have so much stored up you see;
Waste love, is what I do.
GREENWOLFE 1962
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95.
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When Crystal Hearts Are Broken
When crystal hearts are broken
You cannot make repair.
The warmth and love you cherished
Turns then, to cold despair.
Its pieces of love shattered;
Though small, shall sparkle still.
So gather them as treasures
And keep them, if you will.
For crystal hearts when broken;
Though shattered and no more,
Are treasured for their beauty
Displayed to you before.
The pieces, just remember,
Though sometimes hid away;
Still sparkle like a treasure
When they're put on display.
The world should see such treasures
Because they're oh so rare.
Crystal hearts add value
To lives of cold despair.
And crystal, when it sparkles
In whole, or just in part;
Still is, of all its vessels,
True love's most favored heart.
GREENWOLFE 1962
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96.
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When You Tell The Truth
I'm sorry if I doubt it,
Your plan to tell the truth.
I hear you might try charging.
Perhaps, set up a booth.
If you do I'll surely pay
To witness how it goes.
Truth, when coming from your mouth;
I wonder if it glows.
At that time, I'll surely see
The consequence it brings.
You with angels at your side
And other wondrous things.
Pigs in flight around the town.
Blue moons seen everywhere.
And unicorns and mermaids
Just lounging here and there.
A pot of gold and rainbows
Near Santa's magic sleigh.
Aliens from outer space
Would surely come that day.
I wouldn't miss the marriage
Of Hillary and Starr.
A Twiggy, Oprah Winfrey.
Bill Gates, a movie star.
Yes, I surely doubt it all
Could ever come to pass.
If it did, I'm sure the Gods
Would celebrate en masse.
And I would stand among them
In lipstick and a thong,
Prompting them to join me in
A hot tub sing-a-long.
Wonders would not cease, you see.
In fact, the truth would die.
For when it passes by your lips,
It then becomes a lie.
GREENWOLFE 1962
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