How can I COMPUTE love’s DATABASE?
Thus WATCH as saintly love, God IN THE END,
INCHes its way into immortal life’s ASSURANCE
in the seeming OYSTER of my heart?
As SPAM is to the living red-blood MEAT,
or TURKISH harem to a WEDDING vow,
so are my SPIRITS to your LONGed-for BEAUTY;
thrice DISTILLED within th’alembic of my soul,
since but EXTENSION of your SATISFACTION,
the PLEASING of your BEAUTY, is the FASHION
of my so painful-LENGTHENED, longing love?
You, the LONG-LASTING perfect pearl,
the faithful JEWEL ’ twixt the BREASTS
of Venus’ very self. Though mortal flesh
may wither, crumble and to DEATH, DECAY,
love’s ROCK, love’s MUSIC, live eternal FRESH,
and jewelled STONES and SOUNDS proclaim Your day.
(acknowledgements to my agent, Bill Wordsworth-Cash)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.