Sweet Lady, such words I might sometime, weave here, hold no cloaked device;
no honeyed, subterfuge to soft, beguile, and steal your heart away;
to ease a pathway to your bed; seducing, couched, to soft entice;
unless... of course, you want it so;
but, that is one more game to play.

A game to play 'twixt you and I, alone...
such words you will not find
here, upon some page laid forth, before the all-consuming eyes
of others...
No; such words to whisper thus, remain yet, in my mind,
for you, alone; as yet, un-versed;
for you, l would not compromise.

What you see here... words of the song the hopeless, Lost Romantic sings,
of love as it was meant to be; that sweetest hope, each heart holds true.
Together, till forever; such a simple hope to which, it clings;
and, in its bright-eyed innocence, must always, this sweet dream pursue.

And yet, love tends to show its face, when we least expect it to;
As yet, the un-versed words lie sleeping...
might I waken them... for you?