What is she, to me, we wonder
by Christopher Fladd
Not much more, than lore, or blunder?
No for see, like sea, she is wonder
It ‘twas me, not we, the comer with thunder.
Now is for now, or more never
Could come of young love, if true love, ever.
It is for her knowledge, I noted that,
She will live with, or without, like a cat.
She waivers forever in my thoughts
Of how I should have, myself brought
Into her eyes, and life, and dreams,
With wild lucidity, fantasy, schemes.
She is the one I wish to know me
The one inside mind, body, being.