Thursday, 12 March 2015

Prudence in Particular

So much of what I love is just the essence of your kind,
But it's the way that it's made manifest in you
I seem to find,
Is so perfect and so lovely,
But can it be defined?

I suppose you're there yourself in the love light in your eye,
When you place your velvet nose upon my knee.
And in the way you seem to dream
So very humanly, 
As you stretch out, quite abandoned on the bed.

And it's in your silent wisdom, when you try
To warn me, with a look,
And the way you keep on trying,
Though you know I won't take care
Because I'm deaf and never notice,
until reviewing what I said,
I sense your sage-like presence 
And a caution in the air.
But your ears seem to have a lovely,
Complex, turning language of their own,
They hear, they think, they speak, they seem to see
They indicate you're comprehending 
All the meaning in the world,
Not just that silly part which is revealed to me.

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