Gifts of Love
I used to say I love you, many years ago –
My passion-cries were wings of flight!
Like burning arrows pierced upon a snowy night,
I loosed my songs to let you know.
So long ago! So many years will change a man.
And now the songs of love lie burnt
Like cindered, wasted chars of music never learnt.
I live my life as best I can.
So now I only open doors for you - you nod.
I rub your aching back - you moan.
You only frown - I work my fingers to the bone.
My quiver’s broken, bare and flawed.
I still go on, I weed your flower beds - you pout.
I always serve as you command.
I take you to a restaurant - I hold your hand.
You point to trash - I take it out.
I buy you gifts - you ask me of my whereabouts.
I see your tears - I hold you near,
My arrows burnt by what I hold most dear -
Your nods, your frowns, your tears and pouts.
Copyright © Mark Ackerson | Year Posted 2015
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