Legion Hours, by Gilbert Huntly (*POEM*)

Could I but span the legion hours of Time, my love,
Finding across the waves of the boundless deep

The words you pen in verse for only me, my loveโ€”

The words you write and rhyme for me to keep;

Could I but touch your soul and feel your life, my love;
Could I but reach my hand for yours to hold;
Could I but bridge the leagues and latitudes and swells, my love;
Could I your form into myself enfold…

I’d press my face and flesh into your warmth, my love,
And anoint your breasts with kisses and red wine.
We’d dwell upon the sands and seas of Love, my love,
And forever I’d be yours โ€” and you’d be mine!

32 thoughts to “Legion Hours, by Gilbert Huntly (*POEM*)”

  1. Well done, Gilbert! Beautiful poem, flawless rhythm, and a gorgeous picture to set the mood.

    1. The wise Francis Bacon wrote of Love:

      “The stage is more beholden to love than the life of man. For as to the stage love is ever a matter of comedies and now and then of tragedies, but in life it doth much mischief, sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a fury.”

      Good morning, Mr. S! Sometimes we write things just because we’re asked – and flattered to do so. You were one who asked, so there! I perceive from her own poetry that Lasha likes poems of this genre; so, if I wrote it for anybody, I wrote it for her. (We have never met – and are never likely to do so – so it is just a passing pleasant fiction to which “the stage is more beholden” !!)

      (I actually did have, at one time, a brief romance with a Spanish beauty after her mother – a countess – asked me to escort her daughter around Washington and the hunt country (she was a great equestrienne), and I fell somewhat “in love”, and it was difficult to get over – but too difficult to maintain!)(In that case, too, a large body of water and different cultures divided!) ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. Very sweet, Gilbert.
    I’m sure the lady is amused.

    But of course I’m ever a fan of Puck, who if called upon might enlighten even such a wise and noble creature as Francis Bacon.
    Who offers finer testimony of life’s mysterious foibles, of elusive love, than Puck?

    “Captain of our fairy band,
    Helena is here at hand,
    And the youth, mistook by me,
    Pleading for a lover’s fee.
    Shall we their fond pageant see?
    Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

    1. this time you got ripped off by lasha, next time it will be your turn, hopefully.

      all is fair …

      1. @ lobro

        “this time you got ripped off by lasha, next time it will be your turn, hopefully.”

        Not sure what you mean. How has “X”, whoever that is, “been ripped off by Lasha”? In what way has Lasha been ripping anyone off?

        I thought you approved of Lasha and her writings? Yet here you seem to be attacking her in the same way as Les Visible has recently been attacked on this site.

        For the life of me, I can’t understand what grievance you have against Lasha. What harm has she ever done you? Please explain.

        1. X and lasha are the same poster.

          i would have hoped that she would explain, but there you go.

          instead of her catching onto the joke, someone else takes offense.
          the vagaries of blogdom.

        2. hey lasha, where are you when i need defending?
          i thought you approved of me and my writings.

        3. now i blew her alter ego … she can always switch to “Y”, no one would have a clue (or Ynot).

          1. Honestly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I’m not aware of anyone attacking anyone. I’m still in one piece, last time I checked.

    2. Are my emails not getting through!?

      Because I’ve been waiting for years now, thinking all this time you’ve been considering, deliberating, dreaming…

      (I have jewels! And fine chocolate!)

  3. That lady in the picture seems to be on a cruise ship where so many romances start. There’s something above the sea. Conducive to falling in love, I mean.

    I’ve been on sea voyages six times, and four times I’ve fallen in love. That’s a pretty high percentage. Once it was with the Captain, once with the Purser, and twice with passengers in adjacent cabins.

    I notice that Gilbert often mentions the sea in his poems. I wonder if he’s a seafaring man…?

    “Home is the sailor home from sea…” One of the lines from a poem I was taught in my school days. I forget the rest. It’s all gone… just a mist in my mind…

    1. For a long time, I have regretted not having taken my great opportunities for a nautical career.

      1. But I would rather dig ditches than to pilot one of those floating tubs called “cruiseships”… Sorry.

    2. Primrose, the picture looks more likely to be of a moorish, occidental beachside
      abode somewhere near Gibraltar, on the Mediterranean. I would love to have a place like that! With a beautiful, raven-haired princess to welcome me…

  4. Gilbert, your poetry is much appreciated. Thank you for helping to brighten up my drab life. It’s good to know that people like you exist!

  5. Iโ€™d press my face and flesh into your warmth, my love,
    And anoint your breasts with kisses and red wine.

    Oh gosh, those lines do something special for me! Red wine. Wow! I’ve never had anyone anoint my breasts with red wine. Mmmmmmmmmm…..what a turn-on!

    1. aren’t you the shrink lady? in search of the right nutcase …

      myself, i prefer the natural, maternal taste, maybe anointed with something in keeping with materia prima, sweet and creamy, e.g., bailey’s.

      guess i am the nutcase in search of the right shrink …

      1. Well, I’m always here if you want to discuss your problems. Ask me anything. I guarantee to surprise you. Try me out.

        One thing I will tell you right away. You are not a nutcase, and deep down you think you are your own best shrink. You have an unshakeable belief in your own intellect, thinking it second to none.

        Am I right?

        1. @Balthaza

          You seem pretty accurate on mr. lobro. He seems astute. And he likes Baily’s; in fact of which he has inspired me to throw some in the coffee I just made. (I am the “nutcase” if one considers I take tea early in the morning, and coffee at evening – along with other points to ponder).

          If you are indeed a “shrink”, you must be feasting mightily on the buffet you encounter here! ๐Ÿ™‚
          I, myself, am NOT [a shrink], but have great fun watching. In fact, I am often in-and-out of the house or shop during these end of winter days, and hardly ever neglect sitting down for lunch or coffee or tea while surveying alternative news, or switching to this site to relax. I write poetry because I am poetic and it is a fun pastime – like I believe it is with our hostess. She appreciates it for herself, and I know it must be a relief from the more serious matters with which she contends daily – like her teaching, article writing, and placating the inmates here. (She is so damn intelligent, we should all be grateful for the time she tends us.)(If she wants me to write her a poem a week, all she need do is ask.)(I might write them, anyway – just not submit them – but she has already made me wonder how whatever lady friends I encounter might measure-up to her standard!) ๐Ÿ™‚

          Well, I need to change clothes and boots – maybe bathe in between – and go to a friend’s for late dinner. (There may be other nutcases in attendance! What fun!)

          1. Gilbert, you sound like a really nice guy. As a shrink, I don’t think you’d be suitable material for me, because I need genuine nutcases to do my job properly.

            Let me tell you a true story about Freud that will make you chuckle and which exposes psychoanalysis for the fraud that it is.

            Freud was once asked why he didn’t take a nice long holiday, as opposed to a week off now and then. He thought about it seriously and replied: “I can’t afford to go away for a long time. If I did that, by the time I got back most of my patients would be cured!”

        2. but such beliefs are by no means uncommon, are they.

          in fact, widely held especially among hardcore nutcases.

          i feel i’m close to closure, says hamster, panting in his treadmill.

          1. That’s right. The Messiah complex. I’d love to meet a guy with a Disciple complex. Anxious to listen to me as if I actually had something to say worth listening to. No such luck so far!

          2. i don’t see myself as messiah (too messy) but i am the navigator of my ship.

            whichever woman signs on must understand that, we sail or founder with me bearing the full responsibility.
            i am not really old fashioned, just think that the man’s talent and thus job, is to too look ahead and plot the course, though he may be very susceptible to slipping on banana peel right under his foot.

            but as to the crowds at large, i am not interested in leading nor following.

            thus i well understand gilbert’s disgust and reluctance to pilot a cruiseship.

          3. and i absolutely yield to woman’s wisdom in her departments, it actually gives me pleasure to let someone else run my life in areas where i feel like a retard.

            i think it turns me on.

    2. Just try to have it done before he gets too drunk and throws away the bottlecap! ๐Ÿ™‚

      I know you girls can get really pissed about having your titties drenched by awkward romantic impulses….

      (You’re a good sport, B!) ๐Ÿ™‚

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