Heart in Abeyance

Waffling scents so potent did fill the air,
My eager heart hears not a word thy say.
Though of great importance I do not care,
Wondering why thou must keep me at bay.

Thou art as the rose whose sweet scent I feel,
To get too close there is mortal danger.
If thou were to ask I will gladly kneel,
For thy heart no long’r to be a stranger.

Watching thee closely for the slightest hint,
Holding on hope to the evening’s end,
Not to place in my heart another dint.
Am I destined to be only thy friend?

My feeble heart to what will it resort,
To gain thy love before the trumpet’s mort?

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Painting by: William John Hennessy, The Pride of Dijon, 1879