An Imperishable Fondness

A bashaw speaks of my broken heart,
He bawls my easing mind with his auspicious tricks;
I stood barefaced of this love's hackneyed part,
A role already musty of time's pricks;

An innocent bantling resembles this guileless soul,
The basking perplexed her sleep;
Bawdy of the butterfly kisses that clamored,
Love has become abhorrent in the night when she weeps;

An endless prate runs in her veins,
She beaconed his eyes with her beatifying lips;
A light glaring that makes no bane,
Love will endure love- lorn hanging on a cliff;

An abetted lover turns the page,
Her means not abject to a threadbare life;
Love's banderole sways in the air,
A love loving and never trite.