Gazing through the branches
wondering aloud as I walked fast
Found among the gifts of the day
were the beauties of the past


Each a treasure all its own
treasures, splendors, gone away
Wonders my God had left me
at the end of this beautiful day


Laying my eye's on you at last
sweet beauty no way to measure
Wanting nothing more of us
than to give joy to the pleasure


False love seeks not to please
laughing at another in delight
Joys in the tease, and loss of ease
creating Hell in Heavens respite


True love seeks not itself to please
as it fears no loss of station
Creating ease, with every breeze
Heaven grows to Hell's frustration


Tate

http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/773372/