A VIRGIN LOVE

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A VIRGIN LOVE

Now, now, my fevered body cries,
Why should we wait for preacher's rites;
Our trembling bodies do enfold
With whispers of such sweet delights.

My tortured conscience 'midst my pain
Reminds me I must wisely choose;
My passion's great, but so's respect,
With either choice, something I lose.

Seductive is the voice I hear,
Just let your loving run its course;
But should we rather wait a while,
For love is more than passion's force.

My fired blood demands its rights,
My conscience says it's still awake;
Across the ages lovers all,
This rending choice have had to make.

Sol the Sage

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