what could I presume to know of love
that reckless in the day
to mutter musings
the sun, her smile to challenge
not so bright a light as this
that shines within the breast
discerning not tween giddy nor mad
to spy thine eyes in every flower fair
and will the mountains move for thee
but this within the red regard of day
yet another matter in the purple night
when roused from
not so peaceful slumber
writhe, employ our moon
discreetly seek thee out
that I may not in sleepless lie alone
and haunted chamber walls
cry out thy name
as well as heart 
and I in purloined passion
ah, presumptuous as I am
alas, what could I know of love