An Entrapment Poem by Natalie Bebbington

My love, i have tried with all my being,
to gasp a form comparable to thine own,
but nothing seems worthy.

I know now why Shakespeare could not,
compare his love to a Summer's day,
it would be a crime to denounce the beauty,
of such a creature as thee,
to simply cast away the precision,
God had placed in forging you.

Each facet of your being,
whether it physical or spiritual,
is an ensnarement,
from which there is no release,
but i do not wish release,
with you for all enternity,
our hearts, always as one.