Music of Heart
I Treat Her as a Love's Deity
I know her sweet name, though,
Her surname to me is still unknown;
Ignorant am I about her feminine glow,
But aware of the pitch of her lovely tone.
Half of her name, though, I am aware of,
She never bothers to know mine,
My love for her may be a useless stuff.
But hers for me is a worship divine.
She never swears nor doth defend,
Whereas I believe it a love at devotional line;
Though I am at my youth's crucial end,
She, I believe, must be in her time prime.
I treat her as a love's deity, a goddess,
Who lives in my heart's sacred shrine;
But she might be, I feel, thinking me not less
Than a thrown unusable bottle of wine.
Her surname to me is still unknown;
Ignorant am I about her feminine glow,
But aware of the pitch of her lovely tone.
Half of her name, though, I am aware of,
She never bothers to know mine,
My love for her may be a useless stuff.
But hers for me is a worship divine.
She never swears nor doth defend,
Whereas I believe it a love at devotional line;
Though I am at my youth's crucial end,
She, I believe, must be in her time prime.
I treat her as a love's deity, a goddess,
Who lives in my heart's sacred shrine;
But she might be, I feel, thinking me not less
Than a thrown unusable bottle of wine.
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I Treat Her as a Love`s Deity
I Treat Her as a Love`s Deity
