She trials me, and lo, my heart takes wing,
A dreamer lost in her resplendent spring.
Her smile, a tempest; her silence, a fire,
And I, enraptured, whisper her desire.
Mark my naïveté, clinging with tender might,
In her shadow quivering, yet basked in light.
Each gentle trial, each dalliance she weaves,
I sip as nectar, as love’s own reprieves.
O’ Beloved, I am thine, to mould and to sway,
A soul that doth linger, though timid, though fey.
Strike my heart with thy caprice, thy tender potion,
For each trial kindles a deeper devotion.
And when at last she softens the vaulted sky,
I shall fall to her arms, my patience high.
My foolish love, radiant, eternal, and true,
Redeemed in the rapture of being with you.
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 4:18 PM UTC
She trials me, and lo, my heart takes wing,
A dreamer lost in her resplendent spring.
Her smile, a tempest; her silence, a fire,
And I, enraptured, whisper her desire.
Mark my naïveté, clinging with tender might,
In her shadow quivering, yet basked in light.
Each gentle trial, each dalliance she weaves,
I sip as nectar, as love’s own reprieves.
O’ Beloved, I am thine, to mould and to sway,
A soul that doth linger, though timid, though fey.
Strike my heart with thy caprice, thy tender potion,
For each trial kindles a deeper devotion.
And when at last she softens the vaulted sky,
I shall fall to her arms, my patience high.
My foolish love, radiant, eternal, and true,
Redeemed in the rapture of being with you.
