To A Madam Poem by Basil Bucolic

A word with you - isn't that too much for me?
Only - to see your grey but cloudless eyes...
Of other numerous which did I meet,
Mine are with them united by sweet ties.

Your voice is full of melody & light,
Revealing various hues of mystic tone.
I do admire it's unimpeded flight,
Though later have this pleasure to atone.

Oh never trace me in your dream or thought -
I am but an observer of vain life;
Rest in my mind as a forget-me-not,
As a gay tune played on a linden fife.

At sunrise, having woke up will I pace
To find & contamplate a tender dew
& to believe that that's a tear whose face -
So dear to me, belonging - sure - to you.