The Course of True Love
My induction to your heart was met with brackish tears
intermingled, yours and mine, as though we both had fears.
Would our love form a hybrid, jubilant and true,
or would there be conditions, demands and counting coup?
Fresh love may be wild, rushing a vagrant course,
sloshing over edges, straying from its source.
But as it is a river, it will resume its banks
and flow us down together, with our deepest thanks.