'Twas driven mad this day,
over something small.
Small I say,
But only seemingly so.
Like doors to the fray,
my feelings did flow.
Thine lips of Fate,
they kiss me fondly.
N'one shall know,
Tho they look at me oddly.
Shouldst I dine on thine maniacal stare,
my thoughts and feelings I bare.
and find mineself in evanescence
eternity passes with such sweet decadence.
Finding ourselves in this,
blissful garden of darkness,
My mind doth wander.
Far, Far above those crooked branches,
to a different place in the eon.
You sit at my side and make me whole.
Our child is beautiful,
calling my name.
Jumping on my knee she says with her lips,
"I want the raven."
Before I could reach for this "raven",
I awaken to your nudge and smile.
Gazing into your eyes,
Almost lost,
In the endless depths of your soul,
I recite a verse,
Of that I rehearsed,
Hoping it wouldst make us,
even more so amorous
"If I stay,
I mean,
If i might,
Thoust shouldst be my life."
You question my verse,
And tho you hesitate,
I continue with a simple voice.
"Please, my sweet ember.
Please, my true love.
Find it in your heart and soul,
that you love me,
and make me whole.
You are my One.
I love you."
And as I reach out,
I hold your hand in my palm.
Removing that which is concealed.
I give you my heart in a case,
hoping you give me this alms,
and allow us to meet in affectionate embrace.
I wrote this when I had a glimpse of what would happen if I let something pass. The poem would have been written later in my life but it came to me in a vision of the future. I saw hands, my hand, typing in front of me on a computer at the library. I remembered every word. This poem is the future unless another path is taken or something is altered by an external force. Much why I never share these things. But this is proof to me that I will be married to the most beautiful man in my life and have a child that we share. Call me crazy for having random occasional bursts of clairvoyance that I don't share with people in fear of being met with either shunning and/or abhorring disputants, or opportunists and/or malevolent bystanders. Thank you.