O, gather me the rose, the rose,
While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
And winter waits behind it!

For with the dream foregone, foregone,
The deed forborne for ever,
The worm, regret, will canker on,
And Time will turn him never.

So well it were to love, my love,
And cheat of any laughter
The fate beneath us and above,
The dark before and after.

The myrtle and the rose, the rose,
The sunshine and the swallow,
The dream that comes, the wish that goes,
The memories that follow!

A broken heart sinking beneath the surface.


It is rotten luck to have known of love;
Where once we were eternally happy, sad but a second in youth.
This love thing they speak of takes a hold of us
And we are forever at its beck and call;
The sorrow of learning the truth.


Once we ran all day and played in the sun;
Swam in seas alongside beaches, smiling and getting a tan.
Where once we ran after a ball, when we were still young;
Our childhood dissolved
And we were forced to become a woman or a man.


Before our hearts were captured and sure enough, broken;
We were free of lust and love and worries about a rapport.
We were solely focused on our own amusement; such joy!  Since stolen,
By love and its minions, its poetic verses and it lack of forborne.


Through shallow waters we search, forever lost in the mud;
Our hands dart beneath the surface, blinded by beauty.
We ***** at a lover we should never aspire to love;
We only find through trial and error, our true equality.


And even when we have found love, truly, madly, deeply;
We are forever doubtful, not intentionally forgetful;
Love becomes our ruination.
We are crazy in love; we seep into each other’s lives so skillfully,
That we are unaware that this disease we drink is called a love potion.


Lover’s morph into something else,
If there is falsehood beneath the waves.
They are eaten from inside and become bitter and twisted.
Such joy in the beginning;
Our fondness soon becomes our grave.
This love thing, disguised as beauty;
Just leaves us,
To become listless.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.