secret confession--poetry (reworked)

Were I not as Echo
to your fair Narcissus
I would wish to bestow
such pure and sweet kisses
upon the lips which dare
to sing of lost desire
though there's no proof you care
if I live or expire

the secrets of my heart
are for your audience
though I wish I were smart
compared to you I'm dense
no others know the truth
about the love I feel
I wander like a sleuth
to find out what is real

you did not ask for me
though I did with all haste
desire so readily
for such as sweet foretaste
of love oft writ by Keats
that dear Endymion
pursued with his entreats
until his dénouement

the secret that I hold
within my heart so lost
could turn you ever cold
while I stay tempest tossed
I never breathed a word--
that is, except to you--
of feelings that occurred
which changed my point of view

in all my days I thought
no true love could exist
until my heart was caught
long since it was dismissed
by other men who feared
my passion as a snare
and still the truth appeared
which caught me unaware

and so I risk the pain
of cold rejection's fist
and stumble once again
into a sudden mist
obscuring common sense
until my words could state
all in my own defense
to one I'd never hate

for love Olympian
is strained by fantasies
inspired by Dian
and sore attempts to please
but risking all in vain
I look at you in awe
and hope you won't disdain
this foolish Cynthia



©2007 Cynth Bage