A Friend Whose Name Is G.R. Poem by Rey Sanidad

Oh, the poets may sing of their Lady Loves,
And may rave in their rhymes about wonderful women,
But I throw my poetical wings to the breeze,
And soar in a song to my own lady friend.
A sweet friend, who is dearer, I ween,
Than any fair duchess, or even a queen.
When speaking of her I can't work on my prose,
For she is the sweet lady who makes me smile.

Since poets, from seeing a lady's lip curled,
Have written fair verse that has sweetened the world;
Why, then, should not I give the space of an hour
To making a song in return for a smile?
I have found in my life-it has not been so long-
I seldom smile-too little of song.
So out of that gesture, this heart of mine grows,
For the dear sweet friend who gave me that smile.

I thank God for innocence, dearer than Art,
That lights on a by-way which leads to the heart,
And led by an impulse no less than divine,
Walks into the temple and sits at the shrine.
I would pluck daisies that grow in the wild,
Or take one simple step that leads me back to her,
Then to breathe and smile again like flowers that sway
In the gardens of luxury, passion, and pride.

I know not, my sweet friend, how came you to know
Which way to my heart was the right way to go;
Unless in your purity, soul-clean and clear,
God whispers his messages into your ear.
You have now had my song, let me end with a prayer
That your life may be always sweet, happy, and fair;
That your joys may be many, and absent your woes,
O dear sweet friend who gave me that smile!