I think awhile of Love, and while I think,
Love is to me a world,
Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
Tween heaven and earth.
I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.
I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.
For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out 'twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.
A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.
...
I am not sure why you would want to be a CENTO poet. In some forms it is stealing others work but when a few lines from many works are strung together, It becomes a legal form of poetry. It takes talent to do it. But I ask you...Why? Obviously you have talent. What is the force that drives you to write this way. For those who do not understand this. In simple form it is. CENTO means to take lines from others work and make a poem from them. Hugs Jan