A softer touch may be enough

To rescue me from schemes of love.

I do not know the times I’ve been

Lost in plots that lead to sin.

And still that book sits on the desk.

Its verses all point to a test,

Where joy is found inside the teeth,

And those sweet words, and visions seen

Evoke the smell of blooming Rose.

I’ve had my taste, and so it goes.

I choose to swear my heart to you,

Not to some set of ancient rules.