Should I speed my loving shafts, to see
them penetrate the blind periphery
of your happy unawareness,
Would you slam, with horror and with haste,
your portals of defence, with much distaste
at the wiles of such unfairness?
Or would those fragile barbs release sweet gall,
to rouse from slumberous state some answering call,
as one in sleep caressed -
Perfidious seeping of love’s wanton balm
to activate sweet turmoil in that calm
and brutal torpor in your breast.
Copyright © Hilary Aziz