Curve

This is a poem dedicated to my lovely wife.

Loss of line, depraved of thought

Cool wind blows as the night drops

Where light does not burn

And wind does not freeze

 

Oh my lovely Lady

Your curve rises from above me

Everything I shall never be

I follow to infinity

 

Out of synch and lost on rhyme

I spin my wheels and waste my time

All for chance of a curve

To lift this mortal turn

 

She lies in wait, beyond my mind

From top to bottom I am entwined

For all I sake and all I care

Go be and forever lie there

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. I hope it is obvious that this poem is intentionally out of rhythm at times.