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All Saints' Eve

Perhaps, as time goes by, I will achieve
my wishes, three of them, to be precise.
Since we have met on chilly All Saints' Eve,
my first one is a heart as cold as ice.
The second is a fire in my loins
as burning as the thirst I cannot slake.
Die, fire! I don't want to toss the coins,
the words, the hints, the meanings. The mistake
we've made is love I'm falling in. Alas,
I'm falling in but I'm not fallen yet.
By-by, I'll see you later, a seichas
prishla pora zakanchivat sonet*.

My third wish is as warm as friendly kiss.
Please, do not take this poetry amiss.

*(rus.) and now it's time to finish the sonnet.

18.04.2019
SHALLOW LOVE IS LIKE A REVERIE

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 4/17/2019 12:58:00 AM
Man, if this woman is not running toward you by now, she either cannot read, or cannot feel a poem!
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Kurt Ravidas
Date: 4/17/2019 7:52:00 AM
I'll be sure to tell her you said so)) Thank you very much, Caren. It was nice)