Drink, Now, My Heart

The Hurt Of Heart

by Michael D. Petti

The Customs Officer's Cabin at Pourville by Claude Monet
The Customs Officer's Cabin at Pourville by Claude Monet

     

    I only loved her, and beg her return,
    Life's boundaries bind the best feelings felt;
    Love has no limits, though limits we learn,
    By dealing in lies, while truth should be dealt.

    I hold her heart in my heart's deep well,
    Not hidden, yet hurt, as my heart hurts, too-
    Surfaces nightly, before morning's quell
    Of sunshine and routine hides it from view.

    As dreams take control, I find her again;
    Though it cannot stop, my heart skips a beat,
    My stomach gets tight, my palms sweat, and then
    I wake up in dark to my hope's defeat.

    With eyes blind for love, I struggle to see,
    Released by her... she still captivates me.


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Cover art & illustrations from the book, Monet : A Retrospective by Charles F. Stuckey (Editor). Publisher: Park Lane/New York, 1986. All poems and text copyright of the author, Michael D. Petti
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