Whereupon my joy is restored by the winds of laughter
Just as my companionship is assured by the starry pillows of night
Even so, I am still subject to the implacable deceit of hope
that such was my heart seduced beyond the realm of its conviction.
May these matters now be matters of most, matter not
yet I never knew the meaning of loneliness
Until there was you
© Charles Coakley Simpson 201