nothing left to gain

your sweetest imperfections
have me feeling most profane
I’ve prayed for intercession
but I've whispered it in vain
can we come to a concession
to undo all of our pain
all I give is love’s profession
I have nothing left to gain

you’re a wonderful magician
oh, you have me mesmerized
if you come to a decision
I’d be very much obliged
I’m in a dangerous position
cause you’re very much tongue-tied
but I’d love a soft collision
one that never will subside

how can we bridge this ocean
which keeps us far apart
if only one sublime emotion
could hit home through my art
I tried to set this all in motion
but I doubt I’m all that smart
only by my strong devotion
could I warm your wounded heart

but this silence keeps on building
till my fears destroy all hope
no more lilies to be gilding
while I grease that downward slope
only fantasies I’m wielding
while your armor helps you cope
but it’s only paper shielding
just another useless trope

I write these words while dealing
with a most gregarious
affect that keeps me reeling
does my hope so dubious
keep your heart from revealing
what might be vicarious
is your heart merely annealing
or is it just precarious

I’m not asking for a reply
that must come right away
if it comes with just a sigh
I’m used to that dismay
I won’t ask you to imply
what you would not portray
from your honest heart so high
rooted on your feet of clay

I’m not asking for a hero
riding on a trusty steed
to save me from a world of woe
I think we’re both agreed
it’s someplace we won’t go
out of want or out of need
but if my love is apropos
then I hope it can succeed

©2009 Cynthia Bage