Esme


No being, on earth, heaven or tartarus,
could possibly take the love I have for my dear Esme.
A name fit for the heavens,
her looks so divine
that the wrath of Venus could be called upon her in an instant
if the goddess, so lovely,
got but a glimpse of my beloved.
If I caught but a single star
every time Esme brought a smile to my lonesome heart
I would have only the single star
from the moment I laid eyes upon her,
for the smile only grows every time we reunite
and dims faintly wherever she must go.
Mixing like droplets in a spring
we dance each night in the forests of the divine Hecate.
Our footsteps soundless
as we move across the leaves of the night.
And just as the swift footed Hermes is soundless in his thievery,
she steals but a single kiss
from my waiting lips,
but retreats from my longing of her
as Eurydice was pulled away too soon from her love.
Her voice sings the perfect chords that escape from Apollo's lyre.
My dear Esme,
May your beauty shine into the heavens,
so as not to blind Venus into a fit of jealousy,
But to call favor upon our love everlasting.

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