Your maiden mercy

My heart, in high school, found a true abode,
A cross where your path kissed upon my road.
For half a year, your young grace read a book;
A good and stunning youth, a tender look.
 
"How shall I love?" thought I at ten and eight:
No father; and my mother taught but hate.
To grope your queen wings: that was how I did.
A man is not, when he defiles a kid.
 
So soon did thrust your eyes of silent scorn;
Till soon I wished (that I had not been born
Through sleepless moon,) and humbly wrote my tears
Of how your skirt's a nest that mankind nears.
 
So blessed the day; your soul forgave my wrongs
And grew my chest, a home of your sweet songs!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Written Jan 14

 
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