Oh to compare thee to a summers day,
Would be to compare thee to a billion protons.
Such a list would never truly say,
That which one would try to describe,
To the thousands of witnesses and so on.
All the people who would surely have to ask,
Why her? Why now? Why here? And alas,
I would be unable to pinpoint the main,
For it is made up of not one item but a mass.
The contents of which have been spoken of forever,
But yet, here I am flocking like two birds of a feather,
Entwined in vines whilst drinking red wine, straight from the vine,
And thus they were and thus they shall remain,
Until the bed of death shall separate.
This sunny afternoon, let’s call it a Wednesday.
The seal was locked,
The band purely golden;
There is no other way.
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.