Magnetic Contours Poem by shimon weinroth

We have an intimate relation, meet almost every day
I the admirer extol the shape, qualities of form, scent aroma
Voice, tone, color scheme and motion, ah, the movements hypnotize
We speak different languages, ours is a kind of passion, one sided

My attraction is not one of gender, not because I'm too old,
I want to lie at her feet, and on the pillow of her bed
Hide under her blanket, feel warm and secure
There are days, my beloved is shrewish, gruffl, coarse, and fickle

Though ignored, I return the next day to admire,
The handsome comely features, delighting in wonderment
Spiced by movements, that glide, tremble, rise and ripple
It seems despite all my protests, of unrequited affection,

I am the one who benefits, from such courtly love,
Beauuty in the beholder's eyes, such a homily comes true,
Each day, with expectations, as I rise,
To go to see, my beloved sea once again