Monday, August 13, 2012

Sonnet From A Lover Insecure

Infinitely tender, and alert
is my beloved – and so full of joy
it makes no sense that I’m her only boy.
Heaven knows, she’s something of a flirt -
and when her many charms she doth employ,
She’s overwhelming, not the least bit coy –
I wonder if I’m ready for the hurt
she’s going to cause when she decides to leave.
I wonder if she knows I see the signs
or if she’s seen me lurking in the eaves.
Infinitely tender? I’m resigned,
And at the point that I will be relieved
when my unlucky stars are realigned.

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