Monday, 28 March 2011

Rene and Poet - part 6

Poet: Perhaps tonight she may know my Love for her. Not because she is beautiful but because she is more of me as I am. I tell you our souls are made of the same thing. My love for her is as the eternal sun, always shining and never fading. Oh I am hers, our separation is unspeakable-  Shall she refuse me, what will I do except to sit in my grave and close my casket. She is my idol, and thus far a bitter life I have fought and struggled only for her.

Rene: Oh Poet, you speak as if she is all of your entertainment and have forgotten me. Am I not a pleasure to your soul, am I not the boy you love to kiss in the rising of the sun. although I do not compare our loves yet am I meaningless to you when you speak so lofty of her.

Poet: Oh Rene, let my tongue be cut if I have offended thee; you are to me many waters, the refreshing of my soul, the comfort of my misery. But I am a man weak to her affection, I speak without sense and live when I see her a clueless man. Oh she is to me the magic of life, the limit of all beauty and joy. 

Rene: Poet my sweetness, refrain from making her an idol for she is not God

Poet: AH! she may not be but it is evidence that she is the daughter of God for only such hands could make such beauty.

Rene: Oh foolish poet, utter no such blasphemies for we know that God only has a Son. Nevetheless come with me.

Poet: Whereto my love?

(he grabs Poet and led him gently to the mouth of the river where they collected colourful pebbles for their evening adventure). 


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