The Metaphor

“I love you,”  quo’ she,
She did.  I heard.
Yet roundabout went my mind…
In stone was set
My heart, laid deep
It beat as she stood behind.

“I love you,” quo’ he,
He did.  I read.
Yet still knew I, he never did.
We kiss’d upon
The standing stone
And ’round us spun the wind.

“I love you,”  quo’ I,
The fall, the heart,
And meant it as I ne’er had done.
Her voice like the stars,
Her touch like the moon,
And to me she was the sun.

October ’04


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This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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