Skip navigation

Oh no, weep not for want of any thing
Which, being gone or left or sought after,
Has caused thee pain or left a sting.
For I have loved thee for thy white laughter
And for thy keen Cheshire’s imitation.
Indeed, your tears cause me to forge my own.
If thou dost not love this tearful notion,
Let go your fear, let no sadness be sown,
For nothing does seem wanting or decayed
When I may see dear grace and love on they face.
But when I find thee so wholly dismayed,
My stomach doth churn and my mind doth pace
In anxiousness to appease that which takes
Your grin, or makes thy guarded heart to break.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: