By W.G. Quixote
Date: 17 May 1997

Harmony of Hearts

Dear Lady, your noble knight has been slain,
his own heart bereft of all melody.
Keenly he feels the sharpness of your pain.
His words whisper in the air: "I'm sorry."
Still he urges you to help him live again
as over the dirge he hears your poetry.
Your verse has the unction to ordain,
resurrect and restore lost nobility.
For songs spin together what wars wrenched apart.
Sing with your soldier in harmony of your hearts.

Love is bent by nature so to conceive
and reframe its form within a year.
He understands that you cannot now grieve
as you swell to the music of the spheres.
Through the cacophonies of time and space
He will come to you again, freshly faced.