Love Sonnet 161 The Pulse Of Time That Quickens In Our Veins
The pulse of Time that quickens in our veins,
Bespeaks of nearness, our lips now attained,
More so, it augurs love's desire that reigns,
An apt prelude to kiss forthwith obtained;
As eyes would close, to perceive things the most,
When mind empties, to fully grasp all truths,
Your touch lingered, as all others I've lost,
To hold, for pain of emptiness it soothes;
In rapturous moments, our dreams collate,
And vow in faith, that's sealed to last till death,
But why, that flesh would really so dictate,
That soon, bouquet of love becomes a wreath;
………Pity the love, or else, the lovers be,
………Alas, this so includes poor you and me.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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