for stephen

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  • 8/3/2019 For Stephen

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    tephenDrawing by the poet, 1997. Poem written 19.11.2010.

  • 8/3/2019 For Stephen

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    For Stephen

    Domine, si fuisses hic, frater meus non fuisset mortuus

    Pie Jesu Domine, dona ei requiem.

    The day we met, a friends guitar you played,

    Intent on winning my esteem;

    Exuberant, you, but I was plain and staid;

    To me, you were a handsome dream.

    I could but marvel what it was that made

    You seek the likes of humble me

    But oh, you did! With charm, you slyly bade

    Me take the gift you gave for free.

    Your gracious gift was laughter, and your smiles,

    The special friendship that we shared,

    Our times alone, your ever-present wiles,

    And even the lonely heart you bared.

    Oh, life was very happyjust for me:

    I never could have dreamedof such.

    My only likely fault (if fault it be)

    Was that I lovedyou, aye, too much.

    ___________________________

    The morning that you died, my much-loved boy,

    I scarce could take the sad news in;My Day grew dark, my life devoid of joy;

    MySoul, too, had died within.

    How can a young man in his strength and prime,

    With rage I cried aloud to God,

    Be riven, and laid to waste, before his time?

    Not him, not him! On methy Rod!

    Yet all these years have passed, and stillI go,

    Resigned, with heavy heart, and pause

    In deep reflection at your grave, for oh!

    No grief, though great, annuls Gods laws.

    Pitiless and inexorable, His decree,

    From now until eternity;

    Not for the likes of you, or humble me,

    Were joys like oursmeant to be free.

    ________________________

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    When I was young, I foolishly believed

    The hopeful verse Love conquers all;

    Yet see me now: alone, by you bereaved--

    By you, made desolate withal.

    I wonder what a man you might have been,

    What sort of life you might have led:

    But idle speculation will not clean

    My soul to brighter hope instead.

    Theres now no help for me (I realise),

    A grieving Sinner of less worth;

    I can no more than cast these plaintive eyes

    Upon the leavings of your Earth;

    Love conquers much, oh yes: I know its true--

    Love conquered me! But surely we

    Will know thisTruth, when we must pay our due:

    Deathconquers all, both you, andme!

    T.J. White