Anode to Love, by essence being a positively charged electrode, i.e. a poem, by which electrons leave an electrical device, i.e. the heart.

An Ode to Love

Shall this verse suffice for the night,

Are these words written down aright,

May ear and eye capture this sight,

Attuned to the universal,

Stirrup and anvil rehearsal,

Bouncing off drum, as eternal,

That mallet against skin drawn taut,

With bolder stroke the beat is brought,

Striking in syncopated thought,

A timpani firm adjusted,

Such reverberation trusted,

To echo strongly when thrusted,

Rat tat, tat a tat, rat a tat,

Like raindrops on tin roof do splat,

Harbingers of great hailstorm that,

Pounds and pummels as fighter’s fist,

Bloodies vision and rarely missed,

Targeted object, pounds as grist.

While may a night suffer such pain,

Renewed shall spirit be to strain,

Through another morning of rain,

And in midst of storm does reveal,

Strength of purpose, and so does heal,

Over scars where bruises weal,

Reminders to the lovelorn heart,

How in courage they did depart,

From lawless-land upon that cart,

Two wheels drawn by a piebald mare,

No carriage holding poorer pair,

Was ever seen at county fair,

With naught but torn clothes on there backs,

A few crusts of bread in their sacks,

Sought roads barely shown by the tracks,

Left by wanderer long passed by,

Who trekked each day carrying sigh,

A burden borne as reached toward sky,

Through toil he labored seeking fruit,

Both crisp and juicy, no dispute,

Arose in thought in his pursuit,

Of passion and with such intense,

Ardor he sought a higher sense,

Where satisfaction should commence,

Yet satisfaction did not rise,

For in his heart he could not prise,

A word to satisfy his eyes,

Such vision he unable knew,

Yet still endeavored he to view,

Some light in shadow, to tell who,

Would on horizon soon appear,

The one to whom he could draw near,

To bear a burden, shed a tear,

To lay by side and comfort give,

To share a crust and with him live,

Such a vision would sure forgive,

The cruel deeds he had inflicted,

Myriad souls had restricted,

Repaid in pain, had he gifted,

Each penal blessing, had so ground,

Beneath his heel, in judgment bound,

Any poor soul who he had found,

Within the realm where he did reign,

And on each shoulder he would deign,

Some infliction of gruesome pain,

In pride so ruled and struck all down,

Believing such was right of crown,

And so destroyed his wondrous town,

That had once shone bright on a hill,

Was sought by all, and even still,

Is recounted by those who will,

Hold high the standard of love lost,

Count as minor the greatest cost,

Though death may come, like frozen frost,

Covers earth in depths of winter,

And all commerce shall so hinder,

Break like old wood, and so splinter,

Into fragments that cut to quick,

Bringing blood forth, as that stick,

Stabs down to heart, making it sick,

Of love that had once held the sway,

Of love torn hearts which on this day,

Awoke in earnest to join the fray,

Threw off the masks and coverings,

Brought out the swords and with them swings,

Against all terror, tumult brings,

To dark kingdoms that would resist,

Brightening light will not desist,

Will so triumph, break through the list,

Like champions bold of renown,

Who captured strongholds, freed each town,

From wicked rulers, brought each down,

So broad rejoicing spreads in land,

Evil forgotten, all is grand,

Life as originally planned,

Where such light does far and wide spread,

Lifts all spirits, raises the dead,

Who slept in darkness, under dread,

Within that kingdom evil ruled,

Who before the gates was withstood,

By brighter angel who whole-souled,

Devoted self, in service gave,

Through humble actions those who crave,

To know forgiveness, so to save,

From sure destruction, light to know,

Reflecting power from the glow,

Of brightest Heaven that does show,

In pure response, in great glory,

Primal festive, such is story,

Eden known, not allegory,

Does this reflection clear appear,

May this poet draw closer, near,

Certain of muse’s message dear,

Heed such missives as are given,

Whose content scolds, now arisen,

Reveals the error of this vision,

Shall eyes behold or is hidden,

The message as it is given,

Borne on a horse rashly ridden,

Such steed is swift, does not falter,

Through desert flies, and the halter,?

Does not restrict, nor does alter,

Course on prairie, across the wide,

Expanse of land, before the tide,

Sweeps over from blue oceans wide,

Yet at this moment comes a sound,

As if far beneath the ground,

Rise such phantoms that do surround,

Encircles horse that ran so swift,

Grabs the bridle, as if to lift,

A burden to bestow, a gift,

Yet the gift was not for freedom,

But to enslave, and be ridden,

To a paddock, where was hidden,

Such snares and traps of dark design,

Where the foes of light did refine,

Such intents to discourage spine,

And so that steed was sorely used,

And even though she had refused,

To fall beneath, her neck was bruised,

This Arabian, not as seems,

Rent and hobbled, and so she screams,

So writhes in terror near the streams,

Of Avalon where healing comes,

On coast where boulders thick with foams,

Birthed by debris and flotsam forms,

Stones to withstand such storm blown waves,

That in crescendo through the days,

Crash unending, their trumpets raise,

Battle lines drawn, sea against shore,

Poseid and Atlas seeking more,

In their struggle to break down door,

Barrier between life and death,

Who thinking some nocturnal breath,

Has power to wake Elizabeth,

Who is heard behind London doors,

Her ghost may wander over shores,

Is seen by poets she ignores,

Beneath her standing such do pine,

Her collar stiffened, red with wine,

She spilled in death, setting a sign,

To signify anger she bore,

Against that William, he who tore,

Her heart with love lost evermore.

Created in tale of Romeo,

Who shared with lovers here below,

Such weakness in resolve did show,

While seeking through another’s dream,

Whose moon diminished, made it seem,

His heart was weak, like autumn stream,

Whose source dries up in summer’s heat,

Once flourishing, for all did meet,

Their own desire for all that’s sweet,

Who relished each draught daily drawn,

Encouraged to seek out the faun,

Who danced in meadows, comes the dawn,

Who played on five pipes lovely tune,

Born of his dreams birthed by the moon,

Whose circuit rising still in June,

Makes great influence on stout hearts,

Who willingly give of their parts,

Once instructed in lover's arts,

To sway with emotion and verse,

To ever eschew the adverse,

To pen some verses not so terse,

Such enrich the ears that do hear,

Perform with courage, do not fear,

To foundations of love draw near,

So, that poor pair who from town fled,

In mid of day from home they shed,

Confines of shackles to which bred,

So freed themselves and on new path,

Together trod, so fled the wrath,

And so rejoiced in aftermath,

In brightest noon or darkest night,

They sang in wisdom as was right,

Of all that came within their sight,

So shared through years and brought to bear,

Many a lilt of sweetest air,

With all of mankind they will share,

The lessons learned, the visions seen,

As did perchance appear on scene,

What better lessons could have been,

Made on their journey, to them shown,

As dreams or visions by them known,

Until their love was to full grown,

Thus do recall from whence had come,

How in need of hour fled the glum,

To free themselves from under thumb,

The ropes that held, the knots that bound,

Within confines of thickset mound,

Built fast to withstand all around,

Who would resist that terror rule,

Who saw each person as a tool,

Thus fled they far with piebald mule,

Whose heart would burst from burden borne,

Who served them nobly until torn,

On thirteenth day, and on that morn,

They dug a grave and honor gave,

To weakened steed that them did save,

Out from the tumult of that knave,

Who now in memory grows weak,

Like a whisper from far off peak,

As so quiet as mouse does squeak,

Such eyes and ears are now attuned,

Anvil, stirrup and drum heal wound,

Rebound with grace, no longer doomed,

Do from storehouse, riches of time,

From past and from future sublime,

Such visions as benefit rhyme,

To draw from stories shared before,

Recorded as from farthest shore,

Or perhaps nearby, which is more,

Easily understood in word,

Even when such speech may be slurred,

Each syllable being so blurred,

The ear is able to discern,

For language akin does not burn,

Rather it soothes and so shall turn,

The heart to attune to the chord,

To understand meaning of word,

To beat plowshare out from the sword,

The horse shall put end to her scream,

Poseid and Atlas then shall dream,

And all milk shall froth with sweet cream.

So peace shall like a river flow,

Anxiety flees, each will know,

How true love to each other show.