Novem

Speakth thee of thy sense
Yet fear it not be vulgar to mine ear
For what is not heard speakth just as well
I ask thee for nothing save truth
Behold!
I shall not shatter like fine crystal
Yet the not knowing tears at fiber and thus leaves it bedraggled
All is good on the mend
O to darn again!
Speakth thee the words which thou know’st to be true
Me can’st force what well regarded words I would likest to hear
But I may beg of thee the words thou may think’st should cause me harm
Nay.  No harm shall come from truth
Tis far worse to be in vile defense of heart
Save for what purpose?
Love?
Ah, but no votive cast forth light leaving even shadows to dance
My words dent thee not
Regard!
Clock winds back
Forward to start
When November reigns
Alas we shall part
I know not when November comes
But see it upon the horizon
Pray thee well for the season anew
I bid thee glad tidings and the joys of life
As that is my love for thee
It shall not die with age ~ Maggie ~ June 3, 2009 @ 3:50 p.m. EST

"If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were." -  Kahlil Gibran