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.