I Glance Thee

On the lawn of Privation and dolour, Where the sun of hope defilades shortly, Thy sudden presence like an April shower, Like the dance of a newborn bud in breeze, Like the meeting of long Awaiting lovers, Thou flooded my self with joy unspeakable. The primitive urge of humankind naked, The temptation of shedding root of being, The pain of losing the ultimate sampling, and to feel sole joy of affinity, Thou art an empyrean bliss of mine. The metallic repose of my Choppy mind. The pulsating seraph of my edgy blood, With pensive honor wish to pester thee, On thy breast and thy honeyed part of verve. Thou art in this lone soul of life and love, My own creation, the projected self. Thou art the Omega portion of my soul.