Oh to speak the words that love will employ
To know that all we wish to do is sigh,
compelled by the answers we know not why
yet that life be filled by comfort and joy.
There is quick wit to the words we do use
meant to crown our glimpse upon a pattern
of life only suggests how we may turn
this into worry; lost in want refuse.
Time takes our lives fraught, concerned and worry
that we shallow now in graves of deceit
find only despair in such conflicts we meet
with derision, fear, instincts we bury.
Oh to know the history of that glove
that sweet analogy her mystique, love.