'Twas the day of the flowers,
When I had it dawned upon;
A boon dulcet; as it captivates,
The heedless I, to remain un-fond,
Of what was presented in felicity,
Gracefully in its poise, as it flickers,
Not under, but in the presence of
The night's soothing confidant,
As it would witness the myriad,
In its ever vigilance; as I would too,
Betroth myself to this very word:
Remember.
Much to my dismay, yours truly;
One concluding apology; if you will,
To the endearing you, much verily,
To the one in which I would confide;
My fiery petal,
One to have me stark,
And one to ignite my spark.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:43 PM UTC
'Twas the day of the flowers,
When I had it dawned upon;
A boon dulcet; as it captivates,
The heedless I, to remain un-fond,
Of what was presented in felicity,
Gracefully in its poise, as it flickers,
Not under, but in the presence of
The night's soothing confidant,
As it would witness the myriad,
In its ever vigilance; as I would too,
Betroth myself to this very word:
Remember.
Much to my dismay, yours truly;
One concluding apology; if you will,
To the endearing you, much verily,
To the one in which I would confide;
My fiery petal,
One to have me stark,
And one to ignite my spark.
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