It's not your eyes, It's not your face either
or how you look or words drawn from your lips
that make me, of your soul, long to take sips
deep. That's not why, of you, I'm a believ'r.
Perhaps Homer could describe this passion
clearly: As swans in love ... So strong does our
bond persist. Provoke the muse for further
senses, words can't form the everlasting.
Enclosed in these tight, tight quatrains reside
You and i, indescribable, zenith
symbols of true affection. Told in kiss,
hidden in rhyme, but to capture – denied.
Love is not described but experienced,
folly to analyze, i am convinced.
I'm biased, it's true, but I love this poem.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite part is:
As swans in love ... So strong does our
bond persist