Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I need not voice
my loyalty
rejoicing thee
Missus E Dickinson

to state love’s race
from me to thee.
Erase titles,
nothing is different;

and yet I write
dedications
Guess might soon know,
intuit as loving:

To all my love,
my perfect one,
my dove. Love me,
Mister E Dickinson.

Funny how poetry can save a life
I know it is true

The poets knife
obsidian words
that make fine incisions
Stirs the culprit,—Life!

A cut and paste from here:
http://www.bartleby.com/113/1042.html