Close Poem by Enoch Cole

CLOSE
My beloved, come close.
Give me something, give me rose.
Oh mother my deceiver give me love of ice let me froze.

My beloved, come show.
Give me something, give me slow.
Oh murderer, oh seducer, give me excess love let it flow.

It's been froze outside,
Girl I want us to meet in.
It is cold inside,
Babe I want you to coddle with me.
I got a table for twain,
Meant for you and me.
Please produce no twines.
I live a very lonely life,
Thou art not here as my wife,
But to blunt my emotions sharper as knife.

My beloved, come close.
Give me something, give me rose.
Oh mother my deceiver give me love of ice let me froze.
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