When midnight moonlight spills its river
in our lake where from your arrow,
freshly picked from Cupid’s quiver
maimed my heart and tainted marrow
infected with your lust and burning.
My truelove: lie again, abstain and stay
to never leave me lonely — yearning.
De hosts dVerse Quadrille, and the word is quiver. Come join us and have fun.
October 21, 2019