late one november night
awoke I, At a magnificent, forsaken place
cast away, in rapturous delight;
love stared me in the face.
ah! pretty time, love! said I
Perfect that u come this day!
dont touch, just pass by.
so saying, turned my face away.
shine of my eyes,my child, spoke love
and led me by the hand:
to its private gardens above
away from sky and land.
we sob, shiver and pray
in love-less cold, in sleepless wait--
but tire and drowse at the end of the day;
and on comes love, a little too late.
No comments:
Post a Comment