If I had words like Shakespeare,
To reveal my heart for all of time
Tearing love Immortalised,
Distilled to fourteen lines of rhyme...
Or if like Robert Burns, the rogue,
In harvest fields beneath the moon,
I'd liken love to a red, red rose
And wrap it in a fine Scots tune...
Or if with Yeats’ simplicity
I could brush away the years
To when being young and foolish
Brought us love, regret and tears...
Then perhaps I would not feel
As Neruda, torn in two,
Caught
Between the ice and fire
Broken, smashed,
Yet loving
You.
Nomad Omnia
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/you-569/
