Ripe with Love

 

O do not censure

What comes so pat

From my lips,

I am ripe with love.

O do not draw

Laced veils over

Your lovely brow,

I am rapt in love.

O do not start

At admiration

In silent eyes,

I am dumb in love.

O do not muse

Over trifles that

I humbly offer,

I am led by love.

O do not loathe

A female’s doting

On feminine charms,

I am drunk with love.

O do not strive

To comprehend

This phenomenon,

I am awed in love.