Calendar
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.
punctuation intentionally omitted from the poem