Hereinabove I Give My Word To Love Poem by Mark Heathcote

You can't rule my heart with a kiss
Even with a thing of near bliss,
Its tokens shall go, slightly amiss.

Sees I cannot vouch for my desires.
They're like-bees amid the pyres
They're not wickets for umpires.

They're not governed or fixed:
In the suns/moonlight admixed.
These choices, they've-not been prefixed.

Although I can't; avow my love-
It's from hereon, hereinabove-
I believe now on I shall hereof.