The posings of a poet.

A maze

When was I lost that you did not find
me in the twistings of my phrase
and were so much evermore kind
and I standby, for you, amaze
When was I confused that you did not explain
why it was it was all all right
and the world was as I used to believe just plain
and stood as the candle in my night
When was I hurt that you did not pick me up and patch my wing
and calm my mind with words said just so
and promise me I was that one thing
that made it worth the wherewhenwhyhowwho
When did I not see that you took my hand and led
me by joys that overflowed my days
and lengthened my soul because you fed
it with a love that never could ever cease to ever amaze

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