Author Information
MD
What would I give to wake up
to your beautiful eyes better and
brighter than summer skies?
You captured my soul so I freely gave it up.
From the first time our eyes met,
I’ve dreamed of the day that
I could win your heart.
How could I know if I were capable of love?
Love is a mystery, to the whooped like me.
Because like Juliet once said,
“My only love sprung from my only hate,
Too early seen unknown,
and known too late, Prodigious
Birth of love it is to me
That I must love a loathed enemy.”
You don’t care, but I hold you dear,
I don’t have a spare, for your love . . .
How could I win your heart?
Or was it gone from the start?
Oh how I adore you,
I think I bore you, why am I scared of you,
Am I a fool? Can I ask how to tell you,
That I love you?
“Never was a story of more woe than this
of Monique and her Romeo . . .?”
Casper McConkie
10/26/97
