For yea
thou art my dear
a lady
luscious & loving
& thus
do I address
thy goodly
self
in this gentle
word of loving.
No lady
put upon
a pedestal
to perish from loneliness
& mere admiration
or those who would but
look up thy skirt
from their vile baseness
but warm
& loving
to my touch
cradled here
(here cradled)
in the realness of
embrace
my breath
upon thy gentle face
whispering the secret
to your hair.
Lady...lady
I doth
love thee!
******
Not lady as position of status but as a form of address to a lover All playful and loving in all its mock elegant Elizabethan-ness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem