Love's Words

By Patrick Devine

I wish I could summon the inspiration that is touching you. I labor under the rude flavoring that bears upon my tongue, yearning to learn how you are spiced. Fleet scentings and brief glimpses, I tell you not enough. My lips become leaden and those places on me once verbose, now droll and stumbling, half sensed. The only words that come are not enough:

Rewarded and bent
by a half passing scent
lost in unrequited
bliss.

Blush-headed and rent
unsure of whats meant
foolishly seeking a
kiss.

This my reward ... and all of it, a few moments of respite to write this. To who? All beauty that is momentary and unlasting in it's nature. To memories, especially the ones I am about to make, for they are my hope. May I live so that none regret knowing me, AND so that I do not regret living half bravely.

AND WHAT OF GOODLY WROUGHT WORDS in loves name? Shall we who admire love hide behind commonality and pretend we do not seek more? What of dreams? Shall we who hope cower, affraid of disappointment? Oh cry me not a river LOVE! I shall highly worship you! I shall revere you for your own sake! Lusting baudily? Not I, but loving well and thoroughly, the moment being a princess. A holiday to you, AND more if I can help it. Poetry ... to motion admired ... form worshiped ... the flush of emotion hungered for.
Love, I shall be your soldier true.