The calendar binds the day of my love

It shows only the date it selfishly holds

Year by year and month by month

The calendar holds the day of my love


Not to wax weak the calendar seems endless

As it controls the days and times with gladness

The seasons do change and time gets old

The calendar holds the day of my love


Restless at times the calendar stands sure

Its relentless exposure to bounty and dearth

The imprisoned clutch the calendar enjoys

It has to release for love will be noised


Let not the restricts of the times seeming clutch

Be the hold the calendar delights in so much

For my affection for you cannot be shrugged

The calendar will not imprison the day of my love


© 2006 Donald G. Porter, Jr.

Punctuation intentionally withheld

All rights reserved. No portion of this poem may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author.

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