My lady,
Thou art such a fine lassy as never have I beheld.
Who taught thee how to walk with such a swish?
Does thou rest thy head without a kiss?
Then I blow one. In my passion,
with thoughts of you, I hold close,
deep into nite's kitchen of soups devine and love's wine,
Come so together we may dine, until morning light awakens all others,
but lovers, a night of passion behind, morning calls gently to sleep.
Fair warning I give, that my eyes may devour your
image, so elegently curved, if ever you grace my castle door once more.
Dance, while I proposition thee, wont ye be mine?
Can you feel the light of my desire
guiding you, love, to my awaiting shore.
Nice romantic little piece...enjoyed the read Richard...thanks for sharing it and a very merry christmas to you and yours...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a powerful paean to passion