A Couple of Coupling Couplets
Yours is the tear I wish to taste.
A kiss to fix the golden rule broken by haste.
Yours is the hair I grasp to breathe.
Ginger gold curls my nose doth sheathe.
Yours is the voice I strain to hear.
The quiet golden notes wash away whispers of fear.
Yours is the face I long to see.
The golden reflection in your eyes is me.
Yours is the hand I reach to hold,
To touch the place where I placed a ring of gold.