Over
Some rapt conclusion erring, not define
the love we share between, now taut confine,
the sequence being sought, I seek more thine,
while all the echoes sublimate divine!
Now over, what is newness, what resign
'Tis wisdom's edge of glory, solely mine.
All over, while the memories only pine,
that place of entry's story, constant whine!
Think not that over estimates my time,
for its division falters, undermines,
but that of over, starting is the line,
and I be constant, telling you in rhyme ~
I love thee, starting over . . . over's sign!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2007
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