Adequate Words
Stolen words from cold dead lips
of poets from ages gone past –
when love was a bloom budding for the nip
and young starry-eyed lovers held ever fast;
courtly knights in evergreen meadows,
fair alabaster damsels with burning
love in their breast, penned to a fellow
in parchment sealed with wax. Yearning
for true love, eternal, dying. And soft!
The fair Hero hardly need speak
to gentle Claudio whilst he is sighing
over her beauty, so gentle and meek.
And now, our parents love has failed us -
this world leaves no room so swoon.
What words are left to assail us
and sow true love to bloom?
