By David Seddon
What dreams I have are dreams of thee
My waking thoughts are yours as well,
And what is love but constancy?
Your soul gives bright serenity
Your smile enthrals me in a spell,
What dreams I have are dreams of thee.
Since love is vuln'rability
The greater then it fears to tell,
Yet what is love but constancy?
Your beauty's outer, inner glee
A calming place for me to dwell,
What dreams I have are dreams of thee.
Your mind inspires my industry
Your lovely face this villanelle,
And so I'd love with constancy.
With adoration vast as sea
With radiance a pearly shell,
What dreams I have are dreams of thee
And what is love but constancy?
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To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will
certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping
it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it
carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements;
lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that
casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be
broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
-C.S. Lewis
Do not give that which is holy to the dogs, neither cast your pearls before
the hogs, lest they trample them with their feet, and turn and tear you.
- Holy Bible Recovery Version
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