On Knowing Love
Oh to imagine the perfection of love,
to know to feel to understand,
that a sweet and quiet tear can rest upon cheek,
and feel the essence of fear in its place.
It is passion’s embrace suggests we are
called upon to understand the mystique
to indicate in our eyes wet with crying jags,
that we once could touch each other’s soul.
Yes, there isn’t a descent I’d rather choose,
then the one to fall into open arms,
to know beyond life’s travesty of norm,
it is you I would indeed dress upon my love.