WHEREFORE ART THOU, MY LOVE
by H.L. Dowless 

Dreamin’ Of Peaches In Moon Light

                                                 
I was living in Reno
in a hotel staring at the walls,
thinking of the love we’d had oh,
N’ where we’d both gone so wrong.

Here in Reno now its midnight,
the stars are winkin’  in the evening sky,
still there’s nothing worth me lookin’ at in sight,
and I’ve finally given up askin’ why.

Home,
where the grass still grows,
where the corn fields are bein’ sown,
and everybody knows
what his brother and sister needs.

Home,
where the church bell rings,
and everybody sings
those beautiful time worn songs.
Where the train whistle blows
and everybody knows
when a dear brother is livin’ all alone.

Tonight when I finally close my eyes
I can be with her in my sweet dreams.
No matter how hard I try,
three years still feels like forever it seems.

Home,
where the fence roses grow,
and painted belles never go out alone.
Faraway where the east wind blows,
with the Spanish moss and the tall cotton is where I belong.
I cry as I sit here on this hotel bed,
weepin’ while I wonder where my life has gone so far wrong.

Home,
where the Bourbon kegs
and the thistle hedge
miss me dearly since I’ve flown,
while a wonderful life walking in the spirit of past grandiose heroes
was all that I have ever known.
I guess forever I shall pine away my precious time
as I sing this soul worn song.

My Sweet Tennessee Rose

She glances at me slowly,
with her glazed eyes ever so lovely,
oh this beautiful Tennessee rose.
My poor heart is underneath her enchanting spell,
I suppose,
of this wonderful feeling only God in heaven knows,
oh this beautiful Tennessee rose.

Like sweet petals of gold,
so smoothly flows her fine hair,
unto the magic of her person I’m totally sold;
with a single stare she had me completely taken,
I suppose,
oh this beautiful Tennessee rose.

Oh sweet Tennessee rose,
how I adore you so,
just how much
only God in heaven and nobody else knows.
You’re the angel of my night,
unto my most dreary day you give me divine light;
so my story about you goes,
this legend of my beautiful Tennessee rose.

I courted her gently through a phase of time,
this dear angel of mine,
there was no resistance I did oppose
from this beautiful Tennessee rose.
After quite a long while,
I found myself walking down that blessed isle,
arm in arm with my beautiful Tennessee rose.

After many a treasured year of sweet matrimony
and love,
a cool chill fell upon my gentle dove.
Through the freshest creek side herb and twelve year bourbon,
oh how I tried,
then that dreaded day came and I bitterly cried,
when the gray angel of death robbed me of my heavenly glow,
my wonderful Tennessee rose.

Such a stormy day
in pouring rain before her Celtic grave
stone I stand,
a crystal vase full of colorful wild posies still clutched near my heart
in my quivering right hand;
oh how I so deeply miss our love and time spent with you though,
my beautiful Tennessee rose.
I only long for that coming day
when I can lay right by you there in the grave,
oh my heavenly Tennessee rose.

Seek out the good in it
how I know I should,
but I have done the very best I could,
with all love in me still solely given unto you.
Unto thine my spirit and heart pine
shall forever go;
how after some thirty years
the great sadness in your passing still freely flows,
my darling Tennessee rose.

Wherefore Art Thou, My Love

     When our time is said and done,
our moments on earth are through,
I shall relish those cheer filled days neath a shining sun,
and those hours lying close to you.

    Know this single fact of being,
My love;
an eternity can feel like a fleeting moment,
My sweet dove,
when in company with one heaven sent.

    Valhalle is only a stones throw away,
a hook cast into a spring time mill pond;
yet nothing puts more joy into a darkening day
than the sight of you approaching from a shimmering horizon far beyond.

     I behold thy delicate face on stormy nights,
with blue fire flashing wildly again and again,
falling rain slashing so madly that it invites
a perception of childlike voices on the blustery wind.

    I still lie in waiting inside our chateau bed chamber,
my dearest love,
patiently longing for thy glorious return;
even if ye be only a spectrum forever,
my luscious dove,
my passion still shall ne’er waver.

   The flame of our love candle dances gleefully by our bedside,
eerie shadows quiver on the stone wall,
I often feel thy unseen presence at yuletide,
I so long to follow you deeply into that dreary dark hall.

   With the flash of blue fire on the stormy twelfth striking,
the rumble of rolling thunder from far beyond,
I behold thy delicate form in the bleakest darkness,
I sense a warm embrace from a heart so kind.

   Why didst thou flee so far from me
in the day time?
Why does there exist this gulf so deep and wide between us?
You being gone to my wasting heart for all eternity seems like such a terrible crime!
I mix crushed hemlock with the strong wine inside this chalice of silver that you see,
surely a single heavy drink therefrom shall be enough, I trust.

  
Then far from this authoritative collective world where I do not fit,
shall I forever flee,
Oh, so nice when this deed is soon done,
a place of adventure and true opportunity is where I need to be.
This great gulf that separates us shall then be no more,
my dear love you shall then so clearly see,
and us twain can be together again underneath a magnificent celestial sun,
dwelling for all infinity in timeless paradise,
where secular imagination possesses not the ability to fathom
such a great pleasure there in-store.

About the Author:

H.L. Dowles is an international academic Instructor. He has been a writer for over thirty years. His latest publications have been two books of nonfiction with Algora Publishing, and fictional publications with combo e-zines and print magazines; Leaves Of Ink, Short Story Lovers, The Fear Of Monkeys, and Frontier Tales.

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