Sweet Lady, such words I might sometime weave here, hold no cloaked device;
no honeyed subterfuge to soft, beguile and steal your heart away;
to ease a pathway to your bed; seducing, couched to soft entice;
unless... of course, you want it so; but, that is a different game to play.

A game to play 'twixt you and I, alone... such words you will not find
here, upon some page laid forth before the all-consuming eyes
of others...
No; such words to whisper thus, remain yet in my mind
for you, alone; as yet, un-versed; for you, l would not compromise.

What you see here... words of the song the hopeless, Lost Romantic sings,
of love as it was meant to be; that sweetest hope each heart holds true.
Together, 'til forever; such a simple hope to which it clings;
and, in its bright-eyed innocence, must always, this sweet dream pursue.

And yet, love tends to show its face, when we least expect it to;
As yet, the un-versed words lie sleeping;
might I waken them... for you?