They go together,
As lovers should,
And take of their love
In the shade of the wood.
It is not ugly,
Nor is it unclean
To lie in the shadow
Unknown and unseen.
Never a sorrow
Was born of two
Couched in the shadow
The whole night through.
If only lovers
Walked in the lane
No one would suffer
Or sorrow again;
But a step before them
And a step behind
Are people possessed
Of a very small mind
Who nod and whisper,
And poison the bread
Of innocent lovers
Until they are dead.
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC