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The Beloved Lover

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Listen to hear her love,
Look because he comes near;
Leaping in bounds thereof,
Prancing like a young deer.

Her love is coming soon,
Acting like a young stag;
Shines like a glowing moon,
So much she wants to brag.

He stands behind the wall,
Gazing through the window;
As he answers her call,
For summoning her beau.

Her love calls upon her,
For his beautiful one;
Her hair is like fine fur,
That is second to none.

For the winter has passed,
The rain has gone away;
Time fleeting by so fast,
A week seems like a day.

Blossoms bud on the trees,
The time to sing and dance;
As the warmth from the breeze,
Seems to start to advance.

Turtledoves are cooing,
The robins chirp their toon;
The cows have been mooing,
For feeding time is soon.

Fig trees ripen their figs,
Blossoming vines grow grapes;
In the pen are the pigs,
As she sees through the drapes.

She is his turtledove,
Wanting to see her face;
Sweet voice and face to love,
That he wants to embrace.

But foxes in the vines,
The vineyard is in bloom;
Need to catch for the wines,
A yield cannot resume.

At twilight shadows done,
Her stag chasing away;
The foxes as they run,
Gone for another day.

Copyright © 2018 Richard Newton Sherrer

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