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In The Throne Of Her Eyes

18 Aug

I may e’er speak in vain
when I speak now of Love,
for I know not how oft
it plays upon the heart;
that it has shine, ’tis true,
and certain of its glory,
but how oft Love may stay
within its habits and home;
how well it does shatter,
and oft in virtuous reign,
being neither in reason,
nor of eminent planning;
simply in human endeavor
‘ere hath chosen its color
and set pace to its foray;
tho’ I know not of design,
that as labored, intensive,
by which Love hath cast me
in the throne of her eyes;
this I do know, complete,
that Love hath its charms,
tho’, by no means, flesh,
no voice of its own doing,
but must be tendered well
by precious hands, softly,
and in resolute conviction,
lest it slip too easily away.

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Posted by on August 18, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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