Wrapped In Finely Spun Silk
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Within thou secret heart I dared to peek,
but entry to thee twas not meant to be.
Searching for answers that doth I do seek
No avail, thy heart locked and I no key.
I'd oft pondered what in thee would I find.
Thy love for me, wrapped in finely spun silk?
I pray no tidings of a feckless mind.
Some hindreth fault of your heritage ilk.
If only my treasure you wouldst plunder,
In my virgin garden, you shall n'ere pluck
If thee shall not put my heart asunder
This maid shall be the doe and you her buck.
O! Sweet life, hurry forth thy hands of time.
Shouldst death sing to thee from bird on the wing,
Captured then I shall n'ere put word to rhyme
Tis death shall rob my voice of words to sing.
Wrapped in finely spun silk, love hath no fear
In my verse, we shall e're be young, my dear.
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2015
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