No More Than A Kiss
If I only knew how tovalue you for the incredible beauty of your face and form
Then lost in a storm of woeful arts would I have been so long ago
Neither knowing my right from what's left, the warp from the weft of whether or whist have I to ponder in the wandering paths of years we tread;
Or for the musical nature that sings her soulful song in a voice like bliss
If I only wanted no more more than a kiss, how blessed should I be?
Yet the years like cliffs only grow farther on high to climb or fall
Shadowing the play of gray drawn pantomimes summers sigh some scene, et al,
If you only drew your laughter's spell from an earthly well
Enough fulfilled were I to accept an inevitable dream that only slept
Inside my heart like the perfectly cast rhyme
Where everything is preordained, sublime,
Forever after smiles we step into the blue
Words to say, if I only know how, to love you . . . ***
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2015-02-18 at 22:06
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