My Paramour Was Loneliness
Poem By Laurence Hope
- - - My Stella- - 54
Occupied with love
What wilt the world say about our love so unlike the nature?
Let the world anticipate and speak wrong of us,
Let them do what they conceive proper to preach.
We art hymnist and worshipper of heart,
Unclouded is our temperament.
Let the wise preach the song of hearts,
Let the rational debate on love, and
Noetic leaders spread the Canon and divinity.
We art the the priest of love and our hearts art our scripture,
Let us souse into our passionless being with our affection and pain of love.
Useless though we art in the eye of the world,
We wilt make a separate world of us ruled by the office of our love.
Fool may be our dream or our effort,
In the depth of being we art one and always the same.
Heaven wilt grant it as we wilt be beyond the world of words.