My eyes saw her face and else with delight,
My ears heard her singing words me to please,
My head nodded in passion’s speeding flight,
My reason her ways and wit, a fresh breeze,
Heart bewildered was on my date’s first night.
She was mine, mind felt in utter fancy,
That my humour would help me her to win,
My ego’s air felt she fell for me keen,
In conceit it thought she was all at sea,
That love would lead her my heart’s gold to see.
But heaven did conspire to work against,
Everything as if contrived to scorn love,
Hell laboured hard in a virtual heist
Forcing me in folly awkward to move,
Her pride moved yon of sky and still above—
When all ended my heart was left to grieve,
While my wit and wisdom sulked— still unbent,
Will wilted in defeat as to deceive,
My eyes lost inner light they often lent,
My intellect her sense of fair moment.
In matters such as this, of art not mart,
Ne’er call too many cooks, consult your heart.
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- Tongue-in-cheek | 24.11.08 |
Aniruddha Pathak
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/too-many-cooks/
