~~~ Dear Eve.... ~~~
~ Dear Eve ... ~
As winters’, nebulous clouds conceal streaked lightning, so you play with hope, in haughty hollow, to capture a conscience with thy heart, that thou's consort lives within, to make him prisoner to thy affections.
This love shalt not bow to time, nor could its expense be bartered so cheaply. My heart was never false to thee dearest *********. Did you harvest our summer love, born in hazy days, too early, to leave my field bare with famine? Then gorge thyself, but knowest that thee will becometh the architect of thine own, unpardonable want in times’ future.
To coop up unseen beauty is a crime ‘gainst its beholder. How couldst there ever be a heaven waiting for us when cowardice seeks to take you for his very own? Thy Princess may overcometh, for she receives down-payments of Marquis strength for the express purpose of our prosperity.
Will my love turn to love? Will she allow death to rob her passing beauty?
Changest your thoughts to change yourself. I chose to believe in you ‘till you decided to believe yourself, lest thou thinketh herself useless and selfish, marinaded in rapturous fancies of vanity's keep.
Night’s lofty jewels once whispered of us to each other within jealous twinkles, and one couldst prognosticate their future, but they not ours, by reading the forecast in your eyes, which beheld thee in loving visions ‘neath their evening, sable baldachin. Whensoever the blazing candle of azure vault made you happy, though didst his charring,ochre disc abscond with your physical beauty, I fought every rousing daybreak to give it back to you with my words to thee, in order to restoreth that fairness which was stolen upon a glorious noon.
I know the ungrateful tried to pillage your best strength, my silent coquette, and arrayed your trust with threadbare rags, leaving you cold and ill-equipped for the ensuing storms which ye bore, in private rooms, alone, with no one to understand or hold your hand. Those wander years took much from you, when receipts of lies dripped pendants from your crystal veils of marine, when thy heart opened silkened doors, forced open by a cheated, exasperated life; I tried every day with thy poetry to give back that which you had lacked for so long from my own store – do not despise me nor make thee your drudge, waiting, and reporting here with electronic type, searching for answers I should already own.
If thou desirest, pay no heed to these weighed words of thine, which fly upon your thermals, towards their true home, but, my poisoned chalice, I pray that you listen to your heart. Let my boldness clothe thee and its cheer enswathe you with continual, enveloping affection.
You have much love to give, my life, which has pitched up its tent in many places, but my wish is that it finds its home in your beloved; but alas, hope must fly into time's chill December eve, far from vernal, moonlit mists in yonder's troth, to sentinel forever in perpetual memoir of nevermore.