Wednesday, 4 March 2015

PHOTO: Web
So seldom do I gather them memories
For reminiscence or of love who hurt me, 
(The weakness and pain of a heart that loveth so)
That the entrance into me should shrink 
To the joyous pain of first love.
A little spark is followed by great flame; 
A glaze of your hand and lips the beginning 
There is never doubt how I may respond!
With selfish men such passage hurts   
Lacerates the walls; but with you   
Whom the art of love is bedded,
With slow hands and with sweet words 
The glide down the waterslide fluid and slick.

Since you came along 
And found me forlorn 
Everything has changed.
While Mira told me to take it slow 
I saw the end of my pain, and a new beginning
Never did a heart thump-thump so fast, and hard!
And even as second thoughts lingered 
Reminding of first love, 
Like a pilgrim who would fain return,
In my imagination, worsened by uncertainty,
Yet I fixed mine eyes beyond the known wont.
Not long I bore it, the hurt, nor so little while 
But I beheld love sparkle, hope alive and faith strong

For with another sun the heaven had adorned.

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