What is love but a breathe of wind that took
Shape and form upon your bushy black brim?
A cluster of hair upon your face that
Causes me to laugh, and my heart to race.
Whats more to love than, not one, but two of
These, so that I may in my heart laugh as
Long as I please. O would that your pleasing
Face were never gone from my sight, but that
Is not to be no matter how I might
Implore the great's that do uphold this house.
They are deaf to my prayers, or do not
Listen. And looking still I see your face
Glisten with the splendor of man, the lips
Of a God; your picture now does not quite
Resemble the hot lightning rod that first
I met many years ago. Yet looking
Still above your eyes I laugh, and I know...
Brow's of Love, (c) Luke Bennette, April 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment