Reminiscences, intimations, apologia and other garbled sounds from a man at rest.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
A Lover's Complaint
Never have I scrimped on the love
I bestowed on you from the start.
How now you doubt my ardor?
Even the gods would have envied
The delights I have placed by your side,
They were no less than the fealty they exacted.
Would you have asked for my soul?
But it was yours before you thought of it
The residue of my being willingly ceded
All for the dream that I might dwell
With you in an uncertain Paradise
Only fools are destined to know.