Lemon and lime

 O gentle lady,
‘tis not for you to
hear what I can speak.
The repetition in a
woman’s ear
Would murder as it falls.

 My man,
Mind not I be murdered
Just you speak.
Better die than live
And not heareth!

 Yet I choose of you
not to hear
What I have lived and
thought thereof.
Let it die,
Unspeakably like the
grave,
And only then will you
understand
What the cruel whisper
says.

 Just as you desire then,
Take heed on yourself.
Yet like it dies on the grave,
You silent words will wilt
With your heart.
And you will understand too
The cruelty of your whisper.

 Wilt with my heart it
shall not;
For it shall be a
whisper
Kept unbound by the
ages;
Unknown not until a
destiny
Free what desire has
been,
For you what has long
been unseen.

 So tell me, dear man,
Why the intention of breaking to me
A whisper not wished to be conveyed?
Conjured to me such reservations
My mind doth not fathom?

 My sweet, gentle lady,
I whisper from afar.
Mine breath lost in
cold air;
Let the wind make
known to you of it,
Why I chose to whisper
And not make it by
your ear.

 Be it, as you wish
The gentle breeze to disclose.
Yet may I not walk too far each day
So as to reach my ears.
And fear, the storms amidst its travel
May tear it away.

 Toil not your mind,
Estranged it seems.
Instead, nurture you
spirit
into awaiting,
For then amidst all
seasons the wind comes.
Might not an eager
soul hear my silence?

 Nay, I shall not wait
Rather, let fate bring forth
What is bound.
For to desire everyday
What is not to pass
Is to invite torment and grief.

 Let not weariness
Daunt a pure spirit,
Nor a hope to go
astray;
Tides will come,
Never silent!
Screaming my whisper
unspoken.
Cry to the heaven, for
it will come.

 But lo! Tides will be silent and low
Better yet, be destiny our judge
Never halt your words there
For it may come.
Someday you may choose
To not whisper it at all…

- RA,I ; 5/20/00