Each day is a day of pain in heart sans thee,
by MBJ Pancras
All through the days past in our way
Thou hast watered the sapling of love,
And it's a plant with tender shoot,
And it will grow to a tree with blossoms,
And fruits shall be borne that show ripeness.
Might not be showers, I fear,
Might be separation, I agonise;
I fear a veil might be dropped 'twixt us.
Oh, no, my heart can ne'er forget thee,
Will you breathe thy living image into heart?
I shall fill my world of poetry with thy image,
And I can perceive thee with my inward eye.
And there's joy brimming in our hearts.