I stopped…

Looking at you too much,
Lest the evil eye fall.

Thinking of you more often,
Lest I forget my own self.

Talking to you every day,
Lest I lose my speech.

Listening to your sweet voice,
Lest honey turn sour.

Writing about you every hour,
My readers began to protest.

Hey, Rose. Do justice
To this Nightingale,
Pray for a remedy,
For my sickness to heal!

Feb 10 2004. Edit March 2024