From a Secret Admirer

Whose gift this is you cannot know.
My heart is in your keeping though.
You will not mind my writing here
To tell you that I love you so.
I know that you must think it queer
For me to love and not come near
But linger by some frozen lake
This most romantic time of year.
I sometimes give my head a shake
And ask if there is some mistake.
It's lonely out here 'mid the sweep
Of bitter wind and icy flake.
My love for you is dark and deep,
But it's a promise I will keep
As from afar I watch and weep,
As from afar I watch and weep.
Gisela
Gisela would all essences rescind,
Inviting entities to go their way.
So would we all decide what we would be,
Each moment giving way to mystery,
Leaves becoming leopards for the day
As worms are stripped of wombats by the wind.
Graduation Is a Time
Graduation is a time
When our thoughts turn naturally
To vandalism, sex, and crime,
Now that we at last are free.
Our teachers think we're well prepared
To make decisions on our own;
But now, perhaps, they're running scared
As they listen to this poem.
Don't worry, folks, we aren't crazy,
Though sometimes we look that way;
Just annoyed, bored, and lazy
As we make it through the day.
So just like birds out of a cage
Or slaves set free from toil and pain,
We aim to try to act our age
And be for now a bit insane.
For life too soon will close its doors,
And then as we grow old in years
We'll teach our own kids to be bores,
But hopefully they'll stuff their ears
And do as we dream, not as we do,
Facing life a tad askew.
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