Most Precious Love Poem by Maurice Harris

This wondrous feeling of love, impending;
Our's is a story without bound or an ending!
Whatsoever the form, no matter the fashion,
My outward expression of amorous awe, I am not willing to ration!

Birds now sing a more melodious tune,
No matter of time shall be too much, nor too soon!
Heaven's proffer is now my fortune-
The sweet song of my elation-all shall croon!

Time, after time, I give pause, to ensure it is real-
Not even God Himself saw fit, to prepare me for how I feel!
I suppose He meant it, to add to its might-
I am ever-obliged to Him, for my heart's delight!

As though fashioned directly from my dreams,
Is this beauty divine, whose presence seems
Embedded within my very soul-
One with whom, I could happily grow old!

I have no means of recompense, oh Lord-
No matter of explication of same, nary a word;
Mine is a gifting, most fortuitous indeed-
My fiercely guarded heart has now been freed!

I defy anyone to draw like comparison
To the love I now feel, or its beauteous garrison!
I could wait 1,000 millenia, yet, none would gather-
All may ruminate long and thoughtfully, but rather
Than present a gifting of like compare,
They too would succumb to defeat, vis-a-vis, this dare!

Remember, if naught else, m'lady, most beauteous-
Our's is a most precious love, to which I shall remain duteous!

Maurice Harris,13 April 2010