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the word whisperer

Thursday, March 16, 2006

The Question

All right... Just one more poem that I wrote in February. It kind of started after I watched a couple of Jane Austen based movies, like Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Sense and Sensibility, etc. all that good, healthy stuff about love. "wink wink" "rolls eyes" Here are my personal views on the subject...



Each man who holds my hand
I ask a simple question:
"Pray, tell me, what is Love?"

One says it is a song
Of Beauty and her flower
That never withers up;
Another calls it Lust
And gently strokes my neck
Whispering sweet phrases;
The third declares that Love
Is God Himself when living
Within the heart of man.

I ask a dozen more
And get twelve different lectures,
Including shoulder shrugs –
They all see Love as hard
to understand in truth,
Yet, it is so simple
When they do not veil it
With fifty silken scarves
And thirty-three perfumes!

The man who truly knows
The answer to my question
Won't wave his arms to try
To fill the silent room
In absence of right words,
His thoughts devoid of sense.
This man will grasp my hand
And press it to his heart
So I will feel its beat
Echo through my veins
And blushing in my cheeks,
Joining my heart's rhythm.

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