And What is This But Love?

And what is this but love?

A fickle fantasy

Shimmering in silver,

Ethereal and paling

And misted under cloud?

 

And what is this but love?

Arrogant delusion,

Wearing darkness’ veil

And thumping claret lust,

Conceived of revelation?

 

And what is this but love?

A longest-lasting trance

That never left, not then

Nor yet, though wax and wane

It rose again, again?

 

And what is this but love?

A vastness born of light,

But nothing doing, saying

Nothing right? Or tremors

Of an unrequited fight?

The End

133 comments about this poem Feed