NO MUCH AN ADO

NO MUCH AN ADO

What’s wrong with being besotted?

In such wades my heart.

When with consent it is bestowed,

Though with so much a pester.

In the future now by nights buried.

Behind many looks of the great eye.

Over the moon,

And down deep blue sea!

In the future that in wait lies,

Not but by multitude of nights to awake,

The nest of far timely spread on lies,

A chariot to gallop you amongst the jumpers.

A serf before you my June to tender your garden,

And the moon, even the stars,

The dew and the sun,

That the knot a while is tied, our witnesses.

Why this future?

Upon whose ground I’ m fixed

Upon whose face I held haze,

paths wander in search of err.

Would, we will be our resting place,

In nest of fur, timely spread on lilies.

And in tryst sank, we shall sank dip

There you will tell me a story.

You kept hidden behind the moon light.