My Turtle Dove

One day, out of spitefulness,
I'll go to her and drop down
On my knees, and I will grasp
Her hand. I'll look into her
Eyes and tell her that I'm still
In love with her, and she,
Who's always done her best
To act as if she doesn't know
Me when there's anyone
Around, will feel her face
Turn cherry red, and, though,
Until that moment, she may
Have preserved her love in
Secret, she'll be mortified,
And her affection will have
Died, a fate I'm sure she'll
Also wish for me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 60 times
Written on 2017-02-22 at 13:39

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