The Joy of Love
'...in the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.'
Alfred Lord Tennyson.
The boundless joy I feel when you are near
is peerless, much more precious than pure gold,
and I can scarce restrain a happy tear
when your resplendent beauty I behold.
Your tresses, silken and so fair lie soft
upon your pillow, nestled by design,
your slender body mesmerizes, oft
I long to hold you close and make you mine.
Your eyes like sparkling stars so deeply rare
imbue whate'er they see with purity;
no sweeter verdict pass'd could be my share
than be here bless'd for all eternity,
safe in your embrace with the world astray
I'll lie content, my woes so far away.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2014
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