I can never give you diamonds,
Sable coats nor precious gems.
Truth in everything which forms you,
is the source where my love stems.
Count each callus as a diamond.
Count each scar that time once drew,
Plus my love, in full abundance
As the shields that shelter you.
I can't form the pretty phrases.
I can't find the clever word.
I will just profess my feelings,
Hoping somehow they'll be heard.
I've regret I have not roses;
Sorrow that I have no wine.
My love grows in wild profusion.
On our passion may we dine.
I'm not rich, and I'm not famous.
I'm not debonair nor smart.
Take this heart-shaped box of chocolates
as a proxy for my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
James, good rhyme, novel and honest. I like poets, who take care in posting stuff that has been honed to perfection...just like this one. Well done.10/10 Regards, Ian