Love is the unseen guest
That indwelling in the Soul
And sings a boundless tune
Sans the uttered of words.
Beauty first strike the eye,then to heart
And eftsoons,it perches in the Soul
And abodest despite of seasons,
In silence sans being irked.
Albeit,the exquisite flowers has withered
Or the crimson lakes runs bared
But love,O love!
Will blooms in the Paradise of Soul.