To Viola
Thou art like an ever-changing flower,
That gently grows unknown, unto a heart.
Mere moments later appears thy power
And blossoms eterne. Death, that foe, doth part.
Forever, beside this flower I lie,
Captured like a dove, fooled by mine own dream.
To be joyous, yet bursting with a sigh,
For not everything is as it may seem.
Love is that which can sing forevermore
Persistent, yet like the wind, it’s gentle.
It’ll come to your street and knock on your door.
Invite it in, it’s quite temperamental.
True love, what a vague matter it can be!
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