With Zeal I sought the Camelot

Quixote like it seems

My heart unfurled, as senses whirled

A world alit with dreams

Her kiss inspired, my senses fired

The dream became a form

The shape of she, it is for me

Quintessence soft and warm

I thought I’d found a love profound

A soulmate to adore

But boundaries formed – and I forlorn

Pressed in, and pressed some more

I did not want a nonchalant

I dreamed in ‘future tense’

The zealots find, heart swept and blind

Is: I’m a fool, with little sense.

I love her face, her wit and grace

Though ‘flawless’, she is not

Sometimes ‘embrace’ needs be more space

But hear her – I did not