“If I wrote a master piece of words, would they enchant enough,
If I sang you a song would it inspire enough,
If I bought you the present of your dreams, would it impress enough,
I hope not, for even if I attempt all these,
I would rather give my love.”
“Why do I write these things, because thee thoughts are now like a painting displayed,
won’t you approve of these,
or is it all a bit like a half fulfilled sneeze, I hope the preceding , while tired as
I finish, in my chair I am leaning.”
“Of thee or of me or perhaps of her,
no I think it of thee, but not only thee,
It is also of me,
So in fact it is of me and thee,
But it is definitely not about she!”
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