Jail-house
Love.
My
love is drawn in,
to
own a love of her.
Though
she be yet a lassie,
I
fear my heart be hers.
I
wonder where she goes,
and
all the boys she knows.
Could
she know my coveting,
where
I do love thee true ?
I
watch the places,
her
feet tread, and glow.
I
marvel at her sparkling eyes,
to
see them smile once more.
Her
hands so soft and gentle,
guard
a touch of grace.
I
wonder will my lassie,
come
and hold and kiss my face.....
Poem
adapted from an old Scottish song.
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