True Love Poem by sreelekha premjit

there he goes, my valentine
sweet his eyes, full of tender care
here he sat, by the fire place
holding my hand as if in a trance

look, at that portrait, the angelic face
in me he searches his secret muse
trace this pattern, the reddest rose
note how time and energy blend with patience

now read these lines, so telling
of feelings that need no mentioning
this his poem, engraved in wood
lean to it to hear it speak.

the past twenty years have i spent
growing on passion i tasted once
each night as i put myself to sleep
i feel the phantom lips crush me deep

i wish you dears, the joy of sorrow
the angling back into a gone morrow
sweet may your love be in absence too
for then you may boast of knowing true love's essence.