Love Poem No. 51

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Not Object, Nor Gift But, Serenade

It is not the when's

but why's

hence

the eyes..

of thee..

that sparkle,

oh...so radiantly ...

 

It is not the objects

but me..

that freely projects..

my eternal caring for thee.. .

 

Freely projects ..

like the Sun onto land,

and the clouds that protect ..

like a vigilant hand,

waving across the sky ..

bringing wondrous shade.

 

It is not object or gift ..

that come to thine aid.

It is I ... who lifts

your spirits ... in sweet serenade ... .

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