Unspoken Words

Thou worriest over me, this I know, It brings content and my heart fuzzy warmth, But, my love, thou art too lovely for so, Thy knows that worriest I'd scorn'th, But how can I frown on angelic thee? Your luminous love that I treasure most, Thy knows not the yearning that flows through me, The sweet love of thee lets this beggar boast, I admit, life is dull and ever bleak, For my soul grows mad without thy love's stamp, Damn the chance that prohibited us speak, Still, you are my lady, and I your tramp, So, 'til next we meet in joyous bliss, Hold onto me, and take solace in this.