The Nightingale’s Croon

Posted: February 9, 2015 in Poetry
Tags: , ,


Love, shall my words, by your fair ears
Be of sincere attention acquire?
For my words have erupted up my lips
Deep from my marrows they have voyaged

I will breath your breathes, my love
For from the walls of my nostrils they form
They are the steams of my unsaid words
That navigates daily about my feelings

Your heart did kissed my lips fairly
Before she did, of my heart inhabit.
When the first kiss formed, I felt death
For sight formed of your beauty rays

Anger not, my dear, when my love seems dearth
For when you think me right of deceits
My lips are but comical
Not me, but your fond that intoxicates me

When you, love; my jesting spirit suspect
Count in naught. When this seems
My heart is too solemn for our conjugal
So it would birth a gladsome brow

I shall love you till the stars disdain the skies
Till the sun contempt, mock the roses
I shall love you till then, the airs weary to blow
For as daily the day breaks, you love becomes anew.

© – 2015 – AdamsMurphy®

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