Open Me First
If gifts were hung like tempting ripened fruit,
forbidden to but one the tree would share;
what turmoil would possess my thoughts to bear
when tossed in sweet decisions to dispute.
Until I reach with cause so resolute,
one for which all reason should prepare,
I tremble, lost in doubts that feign to dare
- the choice a hasty heart deemed absolute.
So much to choose on each embellished limb,
promises of health and wealth and fame
- intelligence and beauty to possess.
Yet there upon the laden boughs they trim
I grasped the only one my heart would claim,
the brightest of them all was happiness!
Copyright © Craig Cornish | Year Posted 2019
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