Hereinabove I Give My Word To Love - Poem by Mark Heathcote
You can't rule my heart with a kiss
Even with a thing of near bliss,
Its tokens shall go, slightly amiss.
Sees I cannot vouch for my desires.
They're like bees amid the pyres
They're not wickets for umpires.
They're not governed or fixed:
In the suns/moonlight admixed…
These choices, they've not been prefixed.
Although I can't; avow my love
It's from; hereon - hereinabove
I believe now on I shall hereof.
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