Love's Mystery Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

I promised you everything that comes to good:
The compass points of life and being loved -
What's worth retaining and what's before me
And all that might achieve a legacy.

I promised you things that could not be done:
Muting the keyboard and muffling the drum,
Throwing all barking dogs a juicy bone
Stopping the clocks, cutting off the phone.

I promised you things that were impossible:
That I would pack up the moon and dismantle
The sun, put out the stars and pour away the sea -
In part melodramatic irony.

Why do lovers and mourners abuse hyperbole?
When it's simpler to say: 'We shared love's mystery'.