Love is like a race. Read this and know why.
My lover’s russet eyes that floats,
The things she touches turn to gold.
The things from life to love that glitters,
But gold not love with touch she enfolds.
And what is life? A chase a chase,
A chase from love to gold, she rode
and I the sun that she plans to pace.
Yet I not the one with her as my light,
But I am the sun? The sun ‘tis not?
But I am no light and east billows thy name,
Engulf me! And turn me to gold.
Though life beseeches inanimate gold,
Life was not born of gold.
So love me, do
Not touch me.
But turn me to gold.
January 18, 2006
2 comments:
i like this. :D
So love me, do
Not touch me.
But turn me to gold.
I like that part. ;) But I think it would be better to say, "Not JUST touch me"
suggestion lang Ramon. But really, I love it. ^_^
as usual, tsada jud imo poems ramon. keep up the good work. :D
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