MONOTONY
Love, does my love with weary burden fall
Daily upon thy too accustomed ear
With words so oft repeated that the dear,
Sweet tones of early joy begin to pall?
What gift of loving may I give to call
Again to your deep eyes of brown the tear
Of welling, full delight and love, the clear,
Rose-petaled blush that holds my heart in thrall?
Not all the homage of the bees that wing
Laden with honey through the clover days
Wearies the tiny queen with heavy tune!
Not all the rapture of the birds that fling
Love melodies adrift through leafy ways
Burdens the mothers on their nests in June!
Philip Gerry.