Love’s Lost Kingdom


The bronze-edged sun’s amber fires screamed twilight
as skyfall traced the beauty of day’s end;

and you, who lured me to the ocean’s edge,
stood there on the bridge of light,

golden hair streaming in the western breeze:
shadows falling silently over this belated scene,

where we like mythic voyagers portrayed
this natural postcard; our minds

taking in the worlds of sun and shade,
the fevered motion of this painted desert

of the sky: heart’s dark thought, subtending;
where time like some forgotten museum director,

his passion spent, his intellect forging hermetic mysteries
brought us to this present choice: an infinite sea

of moments: past, present, and future – glances
in-between the rupture and its allocation;

events in movement: a happening so dire
and eloquent, lover’s crossing the ocean’s depths

could appear amiss; yet, as this history of love’s sorrows
shows, we’ve come this far, and in walking the path

from birth to death as lover’s do;
all our desperate choices chosen for us

as lover’s know and will; bringing us
to such bitter resolutions of the heart’s mind

in jest and arrogance, that leaping now
below the scimitar of nightfall wakes us,

just before the wicked stars who gaze on all
imprison us, and we who knew the consequences

of our actions, enter this ancient tryst – ending
in strife and wonder, fallen into his secret maze,

where the erotic lord bids us bide our sentence
among these earthly ruins in Love’s lost kingdom.


– Steven Craig Hickman ©2015 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.


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