Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part III: Insufficiency)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

In truth, Muse, I dread thy inspiration;

The mid-night whisperings that tease my ear,

Once more igniting flames of obsession –

A passion undiminished despite years

Neglected; left smoldering and alone.

I must confess, ‘tis not thy tongue I fear,

And rather should embrace the songs you’ve sown –

Sacred melodies I alone can hear –

But, shame lives in my insufficiency:

Knowing mere words are unequal to your

Grace, and their praise oft’ falls short lyrically.

For this sin, thy pardon I do implore.

   These rhymes – unworthy of the page they stain –

   Serve as reminders of love never gained.