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

Unanswerable Questions

Colt and Portia

Does value have meaning? Significance, purpose?
Is life just a poorly-run, foul-smelling circus?

Are all of us doomed to be what we appear?
Is there more to life than Doritos and beer?

Is French the one language we’re all meant to speak?
Does no spinach make you an Iron-Poor Sheikh?

Can one really lose weight by singing the blues?
Is there any point having more than ten shoes?

Can anyone tell me why cat memes are funny?
Why doesn’t Vince know Colt & Portia are money?