cross-stitch
in the wisdom of my years having toted
no small number of relationships i have
come to embrace monsieur shakespeare's
'love is not love which alters when it alteration finds'
and though i could have said it better i will
leave well enough alone and call it a tenet
which rings true love is love there is no
falling out as if tumbling from a tree climbed too high
love is eternal and if there is a tumble
from high branches then it is something other than love
something other infatuation hope delusion
for if it were love it would be love still
i have tumbled from high branches more times
than i have loved but i have loved and know
it is eternal but eternal love does not translate
necessarily into champagne and a wedding band
~
this cross-stitched heart i hold in my hands
letters sewn to form my name sewn with love
on fabric now soft and worn is testament
to what was and still is if only in my thoughts
Poetry by one trick pony
Read 751 times
Written on 2018-09-29 at 15:13
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