Pose

Gone my love

I know not where

but for a season

to sleep

when you return

know you this

whilst vine

does yield its grape

whilst fig tree

shows its bloom

without my God

who carries me thus

our arrows

and quiver strewn

But! strike

a gallant pose

I will

for you

my love have come

restored but

for a season thus

 love never forlorn

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