The Whispered Word I

Once upon a darkness leaky, while I wandered, bare and teary,
Over many a strange and queery volume of forgotten lore –
while I plotted, cheeky spotted, suddelny there came a wobble,
as of someone softly knotted, knotted both my amber feet –
’tis some insecure’ I fluttered, knotted both my amber feet –
only this and nothing more.”

Oh, conspiciously I awaited in the shadows’ air inflated
and each seperate lying ember bore its ghost upon the floor.
Bitterly I wished the morrow, – strangely I had sworn to borrow
from my looks release my sorrow – sorrow for the lost amore –
for the rare and radiant ‘ncounter whom the heavens name amore –
nameless here for evermore.

And the golden, blue, uncertain stagger of each verbal curtain
chilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
so that now, too still the beating of my heart, I stood intriguing,
“’Tis some insecure entreating entrance at my amber core –
some mate insecure entreating entrance at my amber core –
this it is and nothing more.”

Pleasantly my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, cruelly, your truthfulness I implore;
But the facts there came to wobble, and so friendly you came knotting
and so feebly you came plotting, knotting both my amber feet,
that my arse was sure to greet – and meet the colden floor –
coldness there and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness freezing, long I stood there wandering, healing,
Doubting, gleaming feels no mortal ever dared to beat before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the teardrops gave no token,
and the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “amore?”
This I whispered, and no echo murmured back the word, “amore!” –
sincerely this and nothing more.

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