No Beseeching-Sonnet Poem by Patti Masterman

Hold their hand while they still have hands to hold,
Kiss them while their still-warm lips are near;
For this life has a victorious kind of bold:
We're given once the things we would hold dear.

One chance; though it be ever long or short-
To make our feelings known, to seize the day,
And let the other's heart our heart exhort,
To reveal all, and see what they would say.

Don't be afraid of shame, to be found out
Don't hold your tongue, lest other ones may laugh-
Each minute here, your time is running out,
Until they go alone, that stony path-

Gone, where no tears could ever reach them;
Where there's no plead then, and no beseeching.