As I impart the deepest secrets of my heart,
and you with bated breath
do linger, hang on every word espoused,
you must know I am chaste of soul,
no-one has taken all of me,
not sought the truth of me to sew,
the fields of eternal sharing.
Souls have come and gone,
passion’s lips spoke of songs everlasting,
but each and every one, so close yet so far,
did relent this sacred knowing who I am,
and followed paths to distant lands,
where greener fields did beckon hearts,
if no more than to renew the memory of shining love.
I, lost in their wake,
half closed to the quakes that dashed me hopes,
must know the heart that stands before, true,
for I cannot half love,
my soul will not ensue in closed abandon,
and so be sure you know my will,
know me well and love me whole, or not at all.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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