Oh, sweet Lady; can you hear the whispered words soft-spun about
these close-versed couplets couched in gentle subterfuge... so, others doubt
if they have actually read what they think, they have seen... or have inferred
from what would seem a simple poem.  We alone, can read the words.

Oh, sweet Lady; can you feel the soft caress of gentle longing
woven through the very fabric of these words, each one belonging
to no-one but you; you have my thoughts... you have my heart; take care...
we must not lose the soft delight of this poetic Love Affair.

Oh, sweet Lady; in this world, we are unchained... we can be free
to whisper all the sweetest things that, in the real world, cannot be
anything, but hoped for; only then, in sad love.... unrequited.
Here, there can be no betrayal... faithfulness remains unblighted.

Oh, sweet Lady; do you feel the sensuous glide of thoughts begin
to gently touch your secret, inner feelings... does the warmth, therein
contained in whispered words of love all written, but, still from my lips...
gently stroke your mind, like velvet skin touched by soft fingertips?

Oh, sweet Lady; we can live forever... safe, within this place,
our words and thoughts become immortal; love, time just cannot erase.
We can never grow old down the drifting years, as others do...
The Poetry of love is ageless... it will still come shining through.

Oh, sweet Lady; if, but one, or two of our soft, heartfelt thoughts
are still remembered, down the years... perhaps, some poet, who has sought
the secret of the True Romantic... whispered dreams, still there, may spy;
and weave a gentle poem of a sweet romance t'wixt you, and I.