With Unquiet Thoughts
In loud think the heart...
The self, a blessed host,
That super-abundant the impart
Of air...our haughty fluting utmost
Of heavenly wisdom, and free winged,
A might enough...is the heart...of emotions,
That by truth of the wind...
Thou are...the uplifted; rhythmic of love's fickle'd potions;
The unquiet, not seen or smell, but feels,
And that to move with as rational beings,
With little interrogation or care of ills;
And possibly, that love rarely happens with wrong beginnings:
Alack! There shall be them...of love's continuous dreaming...
With unquiet hearts, seeking love's true meaning ✍️
The self, a blessed host,
That super-abundant the impart
Of air...our haughty fluting utmost
Of heavenly wisdom, and free winged,
A might enough...is the heart...of emotions,
That by truth of the wind...
Thou are...the uplifted; rhythmic of love's fickle'd potions;
The unquiet, not seen or smell, but feels,
And that to move with as rational beings,
With little interrogation or care of ills;
And possibly, that love rarely happens with wrong beginnings:
Alack! There shall be them...of love's continuous dreaming...
With unquiet hearts, seeking love's true meaning ✍️
© 2019 H. Farrell
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