The Telling

My love for Her is very great
Within my heart it’s swelling;
And yet, it loses all it is
And more, then, in the telling

I try to put it into words
And so convey the feeling;
But like a bird, it flies away,
As though there was no ceiling

So to contain this cherishing.
And now, at last, I fear
No words I have can make you see
My Love the way
I see her

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

2 thoughts on “The Telling”

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