WHAT INDEED

What could make me leave you?
Not any of the things man
Can put his hands upon
And offer me on velvet pillows.
Not golden promises, silver daydreams,
Midnight colored fear or threat
No shining bauble visible through time shall
Lure me from your side

What could make me leave you?
Not any deed to which your hand may turn
Or dagger word that at me may be hurled
By those who look through clouded windows.
Not lack of bread or silky comfort
Nor the stale perfume of age or illness.
No dark moment in the hour that is life shall
Drive me from your side.

What could ever make me leave you?
Only knowing I am not a help to you.
Only realizing that I keep you from attaining
That which guarantees the destiny
Now shining in your eyes.
Only if I felt my weight too much
For you to carry on your way
Then would I, so sadly, leave you.
                 Ls