To Pamela
Come to me but only with a smitten heart,
And I shall open mine before you depart;
Or say the magic words but within a prose
And say something about the scent of the rose.
The love that from your heart still grows
Must not die as the envious wind blows;
But if there’s anything I’d ask you to do,
I would never ask you to be untrue.
I blow you late a goodnight kiss,
To show how much love in me there is;
But guilty of love and anger, your soul draws back –
Whether too little or too much, my love shan’t slack.
My soul tells the heart, the heart tells the mind
That love is so cute but love is so blind;
Anarchy of thoughts, love and pride, all bemused –
There’s no love as proper as mine to remain abused.
But be kind, I would never dare distraught thee
As I hope that you’ll soon and forever be with me;
Be just and bid me welcome into your life –
And hand me joy by accepting to be my wife.
No feeling of love from me to you shall withered be;
Say not that I said it not without courtesy or glee,
Because ever since I told you that I love you, and swore,
You’ve scourged me more than you’ve ever done before.
Copyright © Choene Alley Semenya | Year Posted 2015
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