Would You Still Love Me?
If no longer could I inscribe, upon tapestries of rosy skies,
Dreams tinted violet, blossomed in themes amethystine,
And no longer could I weave-in the dreamscapes of life,
Failing to decode the missives of your clandestine smile;
If bluebells, red buds, white magnolias~ blooming spring,
And the tall oaks swaying with the slow dance of willows,
And the zephyrs that undulate ripples, burbling with currents,
Could no longer wow you on the banks of our giggling river;
If rustling trees, whirling leaves, dazzling chromatic glee,
Majestic aspens, sugar maple, fall’s stellar symphony,
And blushed twilight ceding to moonlit night’s euphony,
Could no longer mesmerize you in autumn’s blazing glory;
If frosty season sprinkling snowflakes on enchanted evening,
Bedecking face of prairies, enlivening decaying meadows,
And sun’s aureate mellowed rays glinting elongated shadows,
Could no longer lure you to the splendor of falling snow;
If I can’t infer love from passions amethyst of rising dawn,
If I can’t decipher meaning of your covert, unfolding smile,
If I can’t invoke spring in budding birth of yellow daffodils,
If I can’t show you autumn in a single golden falling leaf,
If I can’t make you feel, winter’s angst in shuttering trees;
Then I am afraid, it must be true, a poet I have ceased to be;
And yet, I hear you say my dear, forever you will love me.
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