Thursday 10 April 2014

Romance, Romance ...



...wherefore art thou Romance
if not alive in the heart of man
where dost thou hide
could thee be buried betwixt
the yellowed leaves of an olde novel
or lie thee brittle and fragile
amongst the shallow lines
of a paperback book
pray that it not be
that man has laid thee 
there to rest
let that not be the
 saddening truth
Alas! what fate man has
bestowed upon thee!
how shameful to be so
forsake!
 would that it not be so...
but that thou beest in
the melody of the dewy dawn
 in the sonnet of hues at sunset
 in the poetry of the pure pearly moon
or 
that thou hath concealed thyself 
in the petals of a rose
tenderly pressed to lovers' lips..
Romance, art thou sleeping there
waiting for love to awaken thee
with a kiss
©Rose 

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