A man and his bride were on a path,
Trading values, and whispering they walked.
A man held his bride’s hand and watched,
And in sunlight, their thoughts were washed.
The man, the miner, the conjurer of life,
The bride, the joy, the abundance of rife,
Together they walked and mysteries got going,
And the happiness is in them, it was all overflowing.
With her hands in his, the dreamy eyed lady,
In her melancholic voice, asked her man,
If love is what I get, and you don’t walk,
Why don’t you love other ladies then?
The man, solemn, and his somber voice,
That was just about a whispering noise,
Told her lady, it is all about a choice,
To love you or walk otherwise barren.
For they land beyond, however different it is
Carries the same knowledge unless it is pondered and imbibed,
And to go and to stop there, my present deprived
The thoughts, that I may repent, come then.
It is worth not the risk, nor the endeavor,
The serendipity of it, or creator's pleasure.
We can be here and eternally talk
For it makes more sense to kiss you then walk.

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