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REGRETS
There is only one regret that I have in my life,
That I came across you at a stage very late.
There is a wound left gaping by the knife,
Ah! How it reminds me of my strife.
You may play any trick on me and I vow,
I will be the loser -- to win your love.
Doesn't matter what I 'll gain, what I 'll lose,
Love's chapter seems complete, it will close.
Silence mocks as it listens to my sighs,
Yet I keep on calling, sans replies.
Why, I bet you made even Daphne's spirit cry out in heaven the day you wrote this. This poem moved even joke cracking me beyond words.
you know who!..........so why type it?
Ah, so tell me Sir Poet do you still regret now? Or have those ugly Duckling regrets of yours grown some gorgeous frothy white feathers upon you and become glorious Swam remembrances now, that paint the rough rocky exterior you've traveled through the loveliest rose reviving hue. That being love's very own sweet time tempering shade. The eternal elixir of divine grace's peace. Hearts are indeed very lonely hunters but the feast-mate that they bring home is the catalyst for a new dawning of joy's very own sweet existence. So Fear ever not Sir Poet for darkness shall tread upon your once wounded heart no more. For from now on, your days will be painlessly long your amazing nights promisingly short.So Tell me, would a poetess lie?
you know who!..........so why type it?.........