Your mind, your thoughts, inspire mind of me,
And I write flames of loving poetry.
Yet burn they not when reaching eyes and ears,
They are so soft with joy’s sweet gentle tears.
Of all the things of good and bad on earth
To love you is a treasure I am worth.
And so I write my poems for you to see;
They come from you, go back to you from me;
You might not know that you’re my poetry.
Yea, lyre of mine—the soul and mind of you,
Sweeping to me love’s vibrant tunes so true,
I’m like an echo, getting stronger, too.
The force of your inspiring forces me
To write great flames of loving poetry!