Literary Diaries

Love And Other Rhythms

by BRIANNA ROSE BURTON

I have loved thee centuries
before thy birth, ages waned
from melodies of love-sick songs.
I loved thee not because I loved
thee solely for the purpose of loving,
but for such pleasantness that strung
love songs in me.
For thine own self, the song plays true,
a rhythm for the tangent of thy smile,
I know not love so purest of thy song,
but stronger still, the rhythm shines.
Love folly no more, all sweetness ’til
the end, no heartbeat thuds unless
so musically, much steadily, in time;
for thine own love prepares not with
the moment, but moments love
with rhythm of thy prime.

(C) Copyright 2011 Brianna Rose Burton

Cycle

by BRIANNA ROSE BURTON

Silence.
A temperament of vast degree.
Simplicity.
We breathe it in.
For life is a cycle of sentiments,
a razor hook that dulls over time.
Scattered before us are dreams,
open windows in the firmament
that is our desire.
For we are just, and only human,
living to love and for Love,
we are embraced.
And by embrace to say we nourish
the memory of still life,
and in death, remember.