Were I to write a poem
that tells of love,
of joy and pain and all
the nuance in between;
of giddy arrows of elation seen
through eyes embossed with veils
of promise deemed,
to lift a heart to heights unseen...

Were I to tell of eyes
that penetrate through layers
of protective gloom,
and strip away defenses of all
wavering thought,
and lead the heart through  joyous
journeys of a another's dreams;
to be, to feel, and breathe
the essence of a lover's being,

How wondrous can this be?

Were I to tell of pain
that whips in waves 
across the face of love betrayed,
those ice-tipped arrow stings
that strike and tear the sacred bond
two lovers bring;
turns the face to stone
and eyes to glaze and smites the heart
that feeds upon the promise of eternal bliss,
and leaves in place as whitened ash
the nectar of a lover's kiss;

Were I to write a poem..