Reply (for J.L.)
I bear the bruise with graceful smile,
And never curse the winter's sullen freeze;
Would not denude the poison ivy's leaves,
Nor name the atheist's witted scorn as "Vile."
For virtue's pearl? Within a heart of dust.
And monotheists will take with Life its pain,
And lovers do not curse the devil's reign,
For in perfection find we pain's a must.
Yet when I press my heart to sing its joy
Of love for you, and hope it up with pleads,
And shudder to anticipate your tell,
My heart in seeking grace or scorn asks why
Instead you're hushed without a word or deed.
For silence is the song sang most in hell.