Heart’s Burden
I don’t know how this spark was born,
I felt it deep within me glow,
And with your voice and with your words,
It caught and burned, I feel it grow.
And now this spark becomes a flame,
A spell that holds me close and tight,
It climbs and licks and will consume me,
I’m yours by day and through the night.
No other light glows within me,
But this one that you have planted,
All else is ashes by your pyre,
My other joys you have supplanted.
This heart so lately safe from burning,
Now for you is ever yearning.
(Photograph of Bruce the Bat at the Montreal Museum of Fine Art)
5 comments:
Iambic tetrameter no less! (Or mostly.) Congratulations.
Lovely, lovely poem!
And Bruce is looking dapper as ever! :) Are those sculptures made of chocolate? hehe
That spark, for me, was instantaneous. One glance, one word, one affirmation, one touch, one kiss. Compared to any other accomplishments, I have something nearly perfect. And she feels the same.
Beautiful and so very poignant, in words and in image.
I can see that Bruce is striking a pose.;)
I hope you had a lovely Sunday,
xo
Zuzana
Berowne: Thank you. You know who inspired me. :)
Betsy: If they were you'd see bites taken out of them! Hee hee!
Bill: You are both truly blessed. I love hearing accounts like yours. It keeps romantics like me in business.
Zuzana: Thank you dear friend! And Bruce is a bit of a camera hog, thank goodness, as I'm not.
Post a Comment