Each Friday I post one of my poems.
Though shadows always hang across your face,
Yet do I love you, dearest soul to me,
And my heart ever aches till our meeting.
And when at last my eyes rest on your face,
Peace washes over me, then blissful joy,
But, when we part, your visage carries me
But too few hours more, ’til I’m again
Sick, sore at heart, too near unto despair.
I wrote this sometime in the middle of my college career—after I learned how to use participles and the vocative, as the poem originally contained one Latin phrase, which I later removed in hopes of making it more readable.
In any case, I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions, or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. You can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog.
This poem is also posted on my wiki.