What’s in this ponytailed woman I see?
Those fine locks of hair wrapped up with a tie, Sparkling eyes o’er a glass of Chablis, And a smile so bright, it ushers a sigh, Is it confidence? What makes her so free, That she’ll show me her unfiltered face, Those ears and those cheeks, they won’t let me be, And my heart… it is starting to race, She’s feisty… smart… and a beauty to boot, Dignified grace, with a helping of snark, Her words… no question, this woman’s astute, And what’s this between us that sparks? My love, be still! In your sea, shall I drown? Sweet Joy, in my dreams, you let that hair down. - Scott Alexander McKenzie
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Rain is His Love; over us, it doth pour,
What drips from thy locks on a once fair night’s walk, Shines on thy face by the light of the door, And flusters my fingers that loosen thy smock. Love is the rain that ye shower on me, And warmed with gold flames that dance in thy heart, And, too, by this fire, I’ve made just for thee, Within this embrace, our love never parts. Oh, while His Garden is watered, we burn, By candlelit lodge in this hidden wood, Lightning… and then... a euphoric return, To that wondrous glow our souls understood. My dear, this rainbow that doth surround thee, Makes ye an angel so precious to me. - Scott Alexander McKenzie Primavera a Veròna con te,
Vicolo vibrante… through this Roman yore, We stroll, arm in arm, amid youthful play, Through colors and life, to a place you adore, O’er Adige, San Pietro looks on, ‘Yond, through a gate, secret gardens await, Where lovers may loll and dream on green lawn, ‘Tween kiss and caress, ‘tis life we’ll create, Full of laughter and tears, hope, and some fears, But ne’er insincere, for in bond we are strong, Through storms that may rage in these coming years, If fierce rain befalls to silence birds’ song, We’ll run to the Promise of shelter above, ‘Neath nearby church cloister... ensconced in His Love. - Scott Alexander McKenzie
Think of this: Since the Dawn of Man we see,
He’ll use tech-no-lo-gy to aid his way, Now, rudiment’ry tools of yore can be, Printed in robotic machines today, Quod est impossibile to divide, Man from tech, for together they are one, As God intends, we surely must abide, Our destiny; it cannot be undone, His final wish for us is to combine, Our networked sys with those of human mind, In this we shall commune with The Divine, While mysteries of this life swiftly unwind, It is with singular consciousness that He, Intends for us together with Him be. - Scott Alexander McKenzie Lo, if I say we’re not long for this Earth,
That a glorious rapture is nigh, Do not be depressed, or lack certain mirth, And please settle your urge to decry, For as humans and tech have evolved, And to this: faster, with each passing day, Yet these two, by God’s act, were convolved, Jointly they hasten and as one will convey, Acceleration… the nature of this, Though we crawl today, tomorrow we run, Then fly, then rocket to infinite bliss, To God’s station, from whence we begun, But, be not afraid; be not thee dismayed, For our fare has been happily paid. - Scott Alexander McKenzie
Time, I have lost him; I know not the hour,
Though pulsing veins remind me he is there, So, I stay, as vase unto my flower, Exactly where you put me: here in prayer, It comforts me to know the strain of pain, While in these binds I feel I daren’t shift, For you, I do succumb; I gladly deign, My agony to you shall be my gift. Your discipline transforms… becomes my strength, For is there glee where pleasure is not earned? My patience I shall feed and hope at length, That I may yet be granted what I’ve yearned, For now, I’ll be here waiting… on my knees, Dear master, I am yours; do what you please. - Scott Alexander McKenzie Is it not the sun, I say, rebounding,
Casting light and warmth upon my face, As panes of glass do shine with light confounding, Mine eyes which seek thy preferential grace? Or could this be that colored crystal wall, Whence benefice of God is filtered through, To children reading blessings of Saint Paul, And hand clasped men who pray in yonder pew? In thine angelic eyes, my dear, I see, That glow I beg my passion to console, With thanks to Him who grants me this decree: They shall provide a window to thy soul. My love, upon this path, may we begin? Please lead me to thy bounteous heart within. - Scott Alexander McKenzie Sibilant serpents silently slither,
Among these pastures once fertile and green, Causing this fair grass to writhe and wither, Yet, to amnesic sheep, remain unseen, While, from darkened forest, yellow eyes wait, As shadows run from setting sun, they pause, Tho, when lunette glow befalls, beasts mutate, And flesh shall succumb to bloodthirsty jaws, O woe! Horrific scenes remain unseen, For early morning rain does wash the brain, And blood from blades… concealing grim rapine, Rend'ring hallow: dawn’s illume... again, Alas, this spinning sphere shall ne’er cease, As pol, mogul, and hype shall e'er fleece. - Scott Alexander McKenzie Be this thy heart tenderly beating?
Into mine ear reposed upon thy breast, Drums of love for symphony completing, Sweethearts’ hymn to God might we be blest, Be this thy hand upon my cheek, my dear? Thy fingers ‘twixt my hair you gently stroke, In hopes bold Aphrodite would appear, And once again fresh ardor she’ll evoke, Be this sweet song of passion’s cries I hear? What leaves thy lips so moist while pressed to mine. Like crashing waves that wash away the fear, Revealing trove of jewels that shine divine? Be this thy soul before me warmly gleaming, Or be this slumber’s trance, and am I dreaming? - Scott Alexander McKenzie |