The Romantic

Ma Dame, I say to you as it was written hundreds of years ago by Francois de la Rochefoucauld, "True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have ever seen." And now this poem for you in my own words.... Amoureaux, the fruits of my passion are yours, and now how I delight in your arrival my hallowed woman you among the gardenias that blossom... Pour Vous, I would with my last breath exhale my love for you on that day may it be bitter cold so you could see what you mean to me... Je t'aime, in my mind where my thoughts are born in my heart where emotions reside and in my soul where dreams become... Je vous vois, under the Spanish Moss where the throng of song birds burst into rhapsody filling the echoing evening effervesce with the elation of their love songs... Mon amour, if you this night descend into the abyss of my loneliness, with the touch of your lips plants in the moonlit garden will burst into bud... Je le ferai, inhale your perfume in bold enjoyment as when one turns the pages of a sacred book breathes the scent of mystic violets...