Immured in this terse labyrinth of rime that kismet yields;
Profligate love impedes prowl and to darkness melds.
The frost sundered my heart of yore and still surfeits;
The mellifluous summit of the sultry marvels I peruse.
Art thou an amicable fiend or my fey archangel?
But thou art the epic of my unsung purlieu.
Implore thy darts and grace thy tress by my piquant festoon;
Thy ambience-this tor and this knoll would flood with my flowers’
Reign.
Dazed by this posy, curbed by this beauty;
Sitting by this secluded tarn, nights made me a recluse.
This amulet with antiquated acquaintance is arcane;
This pliable heart attenuated still by a loving brocade.
An ephemeral epic of astounding charm she lingers the laggard;
To renovate the remnants of this morosely state.
If hearty ravens reigned the sky, the little sparrow was mine;
Darkened by times, ere with dreams did dine.
Her pellucid face is goddess to a pantheist;
-An autocrat in a prurient being’s exotic treasure.
Drained in the light of the hard Sun’s heat;
Still so high! Is love so great?