A Shakespeare Kind Of Love Poem by Leslie Alexis

Here, sitting in Shakespeare reading of Lear,
O how I wish this ends, and my love be near.
The day came and the night along with it goes,
And all I have is perfect love to shadow my woes.
I sing in songs from the rhythms of my heart,
This blessing mine, in two lives, never! I thought.
But then the day came, and lo, it was so.
And now her love wipes away my woe.

She is the Innogen in the tale of Cymbeline.
Her virtues transcend that of Hermione – the queen.
Yes, her beauty is far superior to Juliet’s
And of her magnificence, none has written yet.
Words need to be put into vessels - like good wine,
Before they can begin to describe this love of mine,
And canvas needs to be made in frankincense and Myrrh
Before they can begin to capture her stature.

No paint can capture the softness of her lips,
Nor can any artist carve the curvature of her hips.
Diamond can’t outshine the light of her eyes.
Even Aphrodite begs for her womanly thighs.
Her heart, is sought-after in heaven and earth,
Nothing of creation surpasses its worth.
Daily, I wonder why it's me she chose to love;
Surely she is a gift, given from up above.