Ah, but such bitter sweet power
Your hands thy doth hold
For love to be this heavenly
Or mere memory to be this bold
Frantic, i am with worry
For i am under thy spell
I've found myself engulfed and entwined
In thine most beguiling of wishing wells
I cannot grant thee sweet permission
To stem this fire that burns
For i must be properly asked
Even though bodies doth yearn
So rescue me out of thine well dear sir
And allow for me to be proper and apt
For casual daliances i n'er practice
And this dear sir 'tis a fact
This is such a charming idea so well expressed, and carries all the power of a Jane Austen novel where looks conveyed more emotion than direct descriptions ever can! Wonderful, Kind regards, Margaret. So rescue me out of thine well dear sir And allow for me to be proper and apt For casual daliances i n'er practice And this dear sir 'tis a fact
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Margaret Alice, thank you so very very much. Blessings to you! You are quite the writer... Theo