My Love
Where stood my love, my pretty
My eyes my heart compelled
To falter in self-pity
Within its breathless shell
It ached the way I needed
To make my passion clear
But flattery once pleaded
Fell vacant on her ear
I longed to say I love her
And curse the bitter cost
For silence was a torture
‘twas better dared and lost
Than buried deep to vanquish
The man I used to be
To torment and to languish
In the solitude of me
So earnestly I told her
And prayed she understood
She smiled, and then she whispered:
“… I thought you never would.”
Much time has passed unreckoned
In living out my life
Yet I bless each hour, each second
Spent with my love … My wife
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