My love, I have tried with all my being
to grasp a form comparable to thine own,
but nothing seems worthy;
I know now why Shakespeare could not
compare his love to a summer’s day.
It would be a crime to denounce the beauty
of such a creature as thee,
to simply cast away the precision
God had placed in forging you.
Each facet of your being
whether it physical or spiritual
is an ensnarement
from which there is no release.
But I do not wish release.
I wish to stay entrapped forever.
With you for all eternity.
Our hearts, always as one.
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Comments about this poem (Love by Nancy Mumbe )
- Women to Man's, Swrji Basumatary
- The Crosse Of Christ, Sir Walter Raleigh
- Love is complete, gajanan mishra
- When you know God, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- A Hymn, Sir Henry Wotton
- Raja Ravi Varma, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Psalm CIV, Sir Henry Wotton
- Friendship, Afshan Fatima
- Shaking Off The Finger Tip, Is It Poetry
- Golden Glow, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
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