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Love Poem

by Matthew Bokma

His Love is true and ours a lie,
Forgotten by our wayward time,
And blinded by our wanton eye -

The spoil of sickened passion
And pouring vain attraction
But what good is this?
Is it true love's bliss?
Nay, the Judas kiss,
A drunkard-fit concoction.

What tongue must taste? Why tempt the soul?
The sweetness found within the mouth;
Such swindled flesh that n'er be full -

A dash of speckled passion,
With hints of sweet attraction,
But what good is this?
Is it true love's bliss?
Yes! Sweet blessedness,
Is found in righteous ration.

Fulfilling love for us to know,
And polished mirror must reflect:
'Tis sacrifice! The battered dough!

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Click Here to contact Matthew Bokma to request permission to use this poem.