I live the truthfulness of love wherein,
And draw in precious breath as breath is drawn...

When you do boast of matters yours well know
The words you uttered missed what you know most...

Dear friend, diminished is your sight of late,
Obscuring the sun, obscuring the moon...

I write here beauty true on layers white;
Not fame nor fortune steers my loving pen...

The sight of you beneath a blossomed tree,
With joy and peace my grateful heart has filled...

Take heart, my love! Those of the lies who brew
Do dwell beneath the statuette of you...

When I behold the daffodils of Spring,
Of oranged lush that painted meadows gleam...

I have within a vase your art had made
Not by your softest hands did craft design...

The zenith of our love was sweeter times!
No greater prime has near engulfed my chest...

(I)
I vow to you: to give your beauty due...

As I now ponder through the many years
I sift regrets as if to deal with cards...

(I)
Our precious months have none for charity...