Before you turn and finally part,
Unwind this tourniquet from...

Enough! You know the rhyme and how it ends:

“...blah, blah, blah, from my heart”

Too much angst for me. I refuse the rejected lover's curtain call.

No more: “Your neck gave no early warning
  Of warm seduction in the morning.”

And some: “Your neck gave no early warning,
     That it needs shaving in the morning.”

This is cathartic.

You might have liked: “Your tresses, spread like Sif's woven gold,
  Are plated  on my inner soul.”

But now: “Your tresses  shined like Sif's woven gold
     Will thin and grey as you grow old.”

Ouch! But I'm feeling better.

I could have written:   “Your nose bridges such eyes and lips
  That shame golden flowering May cowslips.”

Instead: “That nose that bridges eyes and lips
       With time and gravity droop and drip.”

Are you getting my inner self yet?

You will miss: “Legs that lead to heaven's gate,
  Held promise if I deigned to wait.”

I won't miss with: “Those legs that lead to heaven's gate
  Now hinged for all  below the waist.”

Funny, isn't it, how one's outlook changes.

Oh! Your eyes and teeth.

“Your eyes are black holes stealing light,
  Your teeth like yellow stars at night.”

Do I feel better now?

A house perched
On solid foundation
Provides shelter for a generation.

Homes aren't made of brittle bricks,
Wanning woods or crumbling stones;
You can't raze a well-built home.

A divided house will not stand,
A listing castle on shifting sands.

The peaks, dales and family travails,
At home are not abnormal,
They're common and diurnal;
Yet the undaunted home prevails.

Your house comprises various rooms
For eating, sleeping, and mundane routines.

Homes furnish rooms with smiles and tears,
And gatherings throughout your years,
To be shared or on one's own,
The choice is offered,
You're not alone.

Houses grow proud, though gratifying,
With amenities truly satisfying.

Homes swell with smells of love,
The sounds of children snug above,
A sense that all is safe and sure;
This day has given more than enough.

Houses get tidied, cleaned and aired,
Decorated for special affairs;

Homes are fingers, toes and hair,
Hampers, dishes, and underwear.
Its doors lead to who knows where.
Doors to let you out;
Doors to let me hear
When you're back again;
Welcoming your return.

Homes fill us
With memories
Houses never will.