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    The poet traveled through tropical gardens to experience passionate love and capture each emotion in rhyme. However, the poet is now burned by their lover's lashes and confused by bitter love. Despite songs rising within the poet day and night about their lover's pleasant love, the poet remains silent for fear that if a song was sung, love would take flight like a small bird frightened by a child's laughter and only leave behind the scent of their sandaled feet.

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    by George ....

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    The poet traveled through tropical gardens to experience passionate love and capture each emotion in rhyme. However, the poet is now burned by their lover's lashes and confused by bitter love. Despite songs rising within the poet day and night about their lover's pleasant love, the poet remains silent for fear that if a song was sung, love would take flight like a small bird frightened by a child's laughter and only leave behind the scent of their sandaled feet.

    Copyright:

    Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    12 views1 page

    Love's Silence

    Uploaded by

    .
    The poet traveled through tropical gardens to experience passionate love and capture each emotion in rhyme. However, the poet is now burned by their lover's lashes and confused by bitter love. Despite songs rising within the poet day and night about their lover's pleasant love, the poet remains silent for fear that if a song was sung, love would take flight like a small bird frightened by a child's laughter and only leave behind the scent of their sandaled feet.

    Copyright:

    Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    LOVE'S SILENCE

    ON crimson wings of passionate desire I traversed gardens of a tropic clime To pluck love's strangest blossoms, and my lyre Tuning, I caught each heart-throb in a rhyme. But now thy lashes burn me, and my head Is all confused with bitter love of thee; Yet never have I sung thy praise, or said How very pleasant was thy love to me. I hush the songs that rise in me by day, That rise by day and in the depth of night, Lest as a tiny bird that flies away By some child's laughter taken with affright At sound of lute-strings stirring in the wind, Love, half afraid, unfold his pinions fleet, And only leave upon the lawn behind The perfumed imprint of his sandalled feet.

    ~ George Sylvester Viereck ~

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