Rhyming Quatrina (draft)

[Amathir]

I knew a girl of Turkish tongue,
And spoke we did long into the night.
And love had barely passed our lips
When love would pass once more.

And of this love, a sacred lore,
Ancient yet forever young,
We spoke of when would come aright;
Though dare not from our mouths let slip

Our intent, lest we lost our grip.
Not until when, and not before,
At last we’d find ourselves among
The trees and out of sight,

To elope, as hoped we might.
And onward with our fateful trip;
On to our love’s common shore;
To our new home, where we belong.

This girl I know of Turkish tongue,
For whom I still await the night,
When love would pass from lip to lip;
And when I shall behold once more
My love; Oh! I shall be whole once more.

[heinzs]

[Jade]

very nicely written and difficult I imagine in the making.

[heinzs]