Song Of Love
Ode To Love Love does not insist upon itself Though in silence insistence of it is deafening For what love has not the heart to say Would echo evermore in quiet halls If death is the clanging Love is the bell When cymbals are as wilderness The chime is a summer rain Must love be so obscure? Alas the electrifier of minds seems to need voltage So pensive laments are laced with hope in joy How does love have so many forms Yet somehow remains true? At its core, anyway, a mystery But not in why I shift and reach for you Love is not insistent upon itself Though in silence insistence can be heard For the last dust covered tome on the shelf Will hold captive reader with every word Can captive be caught by their will alone? I cannot help but here wonder aloud And if Love languishes realm overgrown Love's chains may feel like a blessing endowed Such old and borrowed methods so potent For many a blue year I did eschew Forbid m'lady fancy me dotant Ached Love to find words and syntax anew ...