The posings of a poet.

To get her

To she the star who walked into my wood
and lifted the veil I had pulled over my own
eyes so deep all they see is good
now that I am reaping all she has sown

To she who pinned and blew me to the brink
and when I thought I’d misstepped
took my hand and led me to fly by sink
and inflates me to enormity with all my secrets kept

To she who taught me to sail in landlocked lake
and who begged with her soul that I should again write
and all my follies could not break
where I fit within so simple and so right

To she who would stand in my stead
to see our passion rise and thrive
all at once my maiden and knight and daily bread
God give me her and I shall be evermore alive


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