How wonderful and magical a thing, that when a poet falls in love.
It's a gift within itself.
But if and only if the equal heart is blessed with the same name.

For then both lovers eyes can weep a thousand words to soothe each others pain.
And together they can veil the crimson rose with shades of velvet poetry.
So long as they both breathe the selfsame air, which they shall use not shed a single tear from eachothers eye but instead sprout a waterfall of love form the others heart.

But careful they must be when they slep each others dreams uncoquered.
Because within those creations of the nights full moon, they'll find a soul teeming with insecurity and weakness.

A fragile glass foundation.

But poets love is true enough to turn corroded vultures into honey laced doves.
And strong enough to hear each others breaths within the rustling of the autumn leaves.

Oh how wonderful and magical a thing, that when two poets fall in love.
So that they take each others hands and take flight like swans in winter sky.
And their eyes will forever whisper a silent i love you....