free from the Most High
the chances are it is not love
who has abandoned whom
it is you who prefers to walk
in some air of perfection
where we all should lounge
by some ideal meandering stream
where an ambiance of forever spring
strolls along water's edge
you have been too long absorbed
in some wayward messenger
fumbling away the message
in your air of perfection
you are the beggar dreaming of horses
a poor Lotherio with little success
one who has yet to learn
the greatest lesson in love
you cannot give away
let alone hope to have
love demands devotion
asks nothing for itself
you have wasted a gift
free from the Most High
Oregon 9/28/26
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