Like wild young horses, lovers are.
Free of the bridle’s shackle-bar,
At first, they meet. Untamed, they balk,
That is until their pillow talk
...
“Cold comradeship do stars provide.
They light the closer, inner side
Of night's vast weight, which, chill and clear,
Pulls on us like some puppeteer.
...
The soul's patina, etched by days,
Resembles all nature's displays.
Spied close, it seems a work of flaws,
A crisscross, whose haphazard cause,
...
“Not for their strength are lilies grown,
Nor for their weight are zephyrs known,
Or for their boldness, butterflies,
Or for their coldness, children's eyes.
...
When life presents us with some change
So vast, it threatens to derange
Us, shorn from what we always thought
Our lives should be, to not be caught
...
Intellect's walls, firm from all stress,
Slough all assaults, save of caress.
The greatest monolith of all
Will melt, when rains of love do fall.
...
Love, at its best, wipes commonsense
Away. Much as drops will condense
From hidden liquid in the air,
So, too, do lovers soon compare
...
Some say the spirit lives alone
Within its cage of flesh and bone,
And that one never truly hears
Another's song, though sung for years.
...
Few fortunes come to those who choose
To stay secure, afraid to lose
The safety of familiar things.
For though uncertainty’s strange wings
...