A Lover's Query
A Lover's Query
I cannot love thee any more , nor less
hast thou not thrilled to my nightly embrace
cried about sins I faithfully confess
in shock at my previous sinner's race?
Nay, fair lady think me not a high fool
a master of deceit that sells my charm
tormentor in words so very cruel
ruffian that scurries about to harm!
My lady, looks at me the cock that crows
that preens in the morning to please the Sun
strutting, pleasing your eyes as our love grows
do you speak soft and I come on a run?
Do we not share this secret lover's bond?
Secret nights of which you are very fond?
Robert J. Lindley 08-25-2014
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