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The Shallow Grave



I buried my love,

In a shallow grave.

Grasping,

Reaching,

And screaming at me,

To come dig her out.



I callously walk away

Pretending not to hear

The screaming voice

Of a love that just won’t die.



Noah Christian Huget

March 24, 1996

Theft of Rose



Rose, thou art a poor thief.

Thou wouldst, but vainly, steal

the essence of her.

Her beauty cannot be taken

by the likes of thee.



Nay, for a million years

thou couldst emulate her,

and wouldst not compare.

A too dim reflection, in truth

of that which is hers.



Her presence is not yours,

although thou wouldst take it

to be thine own scent.

It cannot be taken from her

By te likes of thee.



Noah Christian Huget

Feb 12, 1996



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Inflames



It is the flame, that comes half way

To your beauty, as seen this day.

A living fire,

So sublime,

Entrancing men, for all time.



Unquenchable fire, in mans heart;

Is the truth, of what thou art.

Aan intense heat,

Burning thus,

Entrances men, consuming us.



Noah Christian Huget

Feb 13, 1996