Retrograde Poem by Elizabeth Shield

Oh the feeling, ever sweet
My eyes and hands so long to meet
And what, in minds eyes, it would make
My heart and soul would love to take
How can it then be reconciled
Such death with longings soft and wild?

Though I know the truth to be
And ending that is pain for me
And every vice and such excess
A swift retreat, I must confess
Is farther from my mind each hour
As I fall further in its power

As I am lost into the sway
Of my desire's fruition, nay
Of all my feeble heart can see
Will you please be patient with me?
And mercifully unbind my eyes
That I may seek and win the prize

Oh what it would be like to see
Your joy at then beholding me
Who in your strength was clothed in white
And made steadfast throughout the fight
Whose stone heart now a heart of flesh
Made beauty out of worthlessness