The Love Song of Imagination – XI

I am but a lonely scholar,

unheralded and woebegone.

Hidden in an unknown corner of the world,

behind books and thoughts in complete disarray.

 

And all because, I once read, as a child,

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

And I hid myself, Dear Wife of Mine,

I hid myself so well that I completely forgot who I am.

 

And now I realise, that in my love song,

There was neither love nor song.

Nor was it well imagined after all.

I just hoped to meander into the tune after all.

 

The olden tomes masked my scent with their dust,

and words of confusion dripped down my spine,

I was seldom in a sane state of mind,

Dear Wife, please forgive me my this singular crime.

 

I was in a dreadful state,

abandoned to an unenviable fate,

forgotten how to stand at erection,

humbly debasing myself with umpteen corrections.

 

Unconnected, In this state of sin,

the tiniest sinew of faith shimmering with a glint,

reminding me of all I had lost,

while I tried to make sense of Proust.

 

Active vocations were an unthinkable exertion,

I was always in a state of reduction,

I was just trying to make sense of what had gone wrong,

and had almost decided that I wasn’t sufficiently strong.

 

Alone, oh so terribly alone,

I might have died or turned to stone,

an open book my humble grave,

of its empty words I had turned a slave.

 

Dear Wife of mine, this wait was far too long,

When I looked at Gaussians I saw a thong.

In this decrepit embarrassing state.

playing the part of a Fool on the world’s stage.

 

Playing that part to complete perfection,

All I had left was my utter dedication.

A promise in remembrance of some other time,

I always have wondered why I hated lime.

 

By being reminded of you, I am reminded of myself,

By thinking of you, I rediscover myself.

You, my dear, a Sylph of the perfumed garden,

My life, my love that I had so cruelly forgotten.

 

Now the times have turned,

and clocks gone wrong,

hearts break and things fall down.

In this weird cosmogony that we find ourselves,

I have rediscovered your passion for myself.

 

And this excitement that makes hearts flutter so,

this love that dares to speak its name,

and heralds itself in front of God’s very Throne,

 

And with His granted permission,

I seek to court you,

to teach you to love me,

and learn how to cherish you.