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Poetry #537
(published May 5, 2011)
To My Love
by Hal O'Leary
You are April,
And I am a little boy.
I float on your fragrance.
I leap and then lie
In your softness.

Your warmth surrounds me,
And gorged with your surge of life,
I feel I must burst with joy.

You are my gift from life of life,
Reborn with every spring.

But, Oh, the anguish
When with sudden harshness,
I am checked and chided
For my childish impatience
And insatiable desire.
Innocently seeking to possess
That by which I am possessed.

Left then to nurse the sweet hurt
Till in good time
I find once more your favor.

The empty longing will
(I must admit)
Assure a reoccurrence
Of the first offense.

So, let it be, what choice have I
But doubtful March
Or May's complacency.
April, I love you.

Hal O'Leary is an 85 year old veteran of WWII.

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