If I pronounce to him a fool who'd part
with you, the whitest swan a bevy flies
then I shall too as now be cast apart
for lesser man is he that never tries.

Tho' take no ballad' sign of my requite
assure that there's a yearn within desire
for toiled have I in lusts refrain despite
for your above as I have dwelled the mire.

Tho' should your love upon me bathe and shine
would I in grasp accede that ruby stone
then place that gem to near the pith of mine
and dance around that rose uncovered throne.

So then accept this writ as love's own line
and should it pierce a heart, then love be mine!

Shall I exalt your grace as season's bring?
In winter; you're a frosty glazed escape
upon the icy sculpts of harps and string,
then plays the autumn leaves, that oaks undrape.

The ochre glides as you cavort the green
till blossoms bow; to all your springlike glow,
amidst the roses we proclaim a queen!
A spring vernal upon us - you bestow.

When dew has dried by amber's master hue
and caroms off the sea the summer beams,
within akin; devotes my lovers view
that eyes azure could match the ocean's seams.

My many seasons you are in cascade!
This love shall bask in each - when one is made.

Of nature's pairing hearts that love renowned
shall I compare the depths of those duets
to virtues won, betrothed and then have bound
this noble cause and gift, that none forgets.

As doves through ether, we ascend delights
no frost shall haze the wings on truest path
tho' wind and rain befits the winter nights,
near maple leaves we warm; as singles bath.

The Swans devout will glide the lakes unknown
we two abound, prevailed by mantras vows
and when apart in bevy we have flown
shall wait till night when lovers dance allows.

As rare as diamonds forged for cupids' stone
is love we found alike - the emblems own.

Shall I return to poems scribed of old?
That once with each a turn and covered page,
bereft a seeping fume that laden bold
and from that glyphic smudge - her cursive stage.

For still upon the tips of ink parades
the lissom bride beheld with gentled hand,
and prose's vigil neath the dust pervades;
that either I immerse within, or strand.

Though lyric embers flare her ardent kiss,
embedded texts peruse a lover's loss,
then should the torment forge my own abyss
the depths shall shadow me amongst the moss.

At least in chasms; beloved reels inside
so dwell shall I - where love has not yet died.

Forgone into the nether realms of grief
with piths embalming loves' corrosive drear.
Bemused; for worldly plush negates relief,
If woes be - known; how differed earths veneer?

Verdure would tinge a molten shade of lime
the oaks will mourn their leaves, and cease the Spring's
with wilting plumes adrift the songbirds prime
and dimmed the sun as dark as lovelorn brings.

For pebbled hues of grey will shroud the skies
and cursive lacquer; etch this sickly mold,
the winds will howl forebodes of vows and lies,
no more shall grace nurture upon this wold.

This suffered love cascades and dwells as deep
if even touched by Gods - would thunder weep.

The snowy lilies gird her pith - in wake;
bejewelled love reposed in truest sleep
as Floras' wreath outdone by sorrow's make,
then thought; what comfort worth are stems - to weep?

Could petals glint upon her sombre plume
and sorb bereaving rain - of mourning kin,
or priestly Latin's timbre out of gloom
and Schuberts' toned refrain - a lighter hymn.

Although, a striking; flowered plush pervades
as fragrance spliced with copal - yields in heart
and over each an ashing pyre cascades,
begotten times and seasons - death not part.

Embraced the blossoms, now upon her lay;
a sweeten lilly - kissed by loves defray.

Routinely lark, though this day depth therein
bemused as why the warbling fluter turned
instilled and sung laments, residing within
and perched unkind; that brittler branches - spurned.

Melodic angst has never sprung so dim
and tunes of fathomed trebles; parted love?
Perchance the ballad pours a swansong hymn;
and from aloft the skies - returns a dove.

If song an' bird be taken dazed with stars
beliefs contort and bowing strings apart
nor stealth be known as fervent dwells the scars,
though bleak the lust for any other heart.

O' feathered, pennate cherub play her whim!
Remain upon the sill and bygones swim.