Close These Doors

Close These Doors

Your door of late is ever closed, and yet
In a while, sometimes, I may see you
At your wax-lined window. This time is set—
A tragic minute or two before, again, through

(Tho it is hard to make in all this snow)

Those frosted panes I see dark, dusty naught;
Perhaps I hear words in the winter wind—
Wish to not be like lustful lover foolish caught
Making lonesome eyes through the blinds,

(Tho never pretending wit; I am honest)

Hoping fonde for your petty, pretty goodly match
Of heart to heart to heart — o, (dare I say?) care
Not tho for my martial love, do not dare to unlatch
Your door; but, then, yet — perhaps would do a stare

(Two amber embers in the night!)

From behind those curtains, as to reneed
Me of the being I am just glad to have once found;
I am as what you mayever require, never freed:
Attending everloyal to you, we shall
                                     (—all in good time, my love—)
                                                               be bound.


Published by

A. J. Sahnow

Author of The Groop, available on Amazon in print and Kindle. Also poet, writer of short stories, musical recording artist, Dungeon Master, erstwhile filmmaker. Graduate of Film Studies, BA Hons First Class. Twitter: | Music: | Short films:

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