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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=521243" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An English Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not a rose, or a lily, <br>But a buttercup<br>Languishing in a field of gold, <br>In some English meadow<br>Waiting to give herself to him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That boy with the impetuous smile, <br>And the eyes of Perseus<br>That hides a spirit, more delicate than any poet’s heart, <br>But not from her, <br>For she is more precious than all the songs of the world, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I am nothing more than an apple.<br>Lost in an orchard of charades and folly.<br>She released me, with her lips, <br>For she is my English Love</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like the chalk streams of England, giving birth to the May fly<br>Every day is our love, our lifetime, <br>I celebrate the nightingale, and the wren, <br>For their song is our song, <br>Our home, this England, this love, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For my English love, my soul quivers, <br>Her glances, our hearts together<br>Her mouth, her soft voice, her touch, <br>Rivaled only by our meadow, <br>Where we first kissed, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the swallows flew their dance of love, <br>And where the pheasants strut in all their majesty<br>Where we shared our poem of Love<br>Our love, this love, to share a future<br>To cherish, our hopes, our joy, our dreams, <br>To cherish this Earth, this Life</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For this is my dream, <br>And I bear my soul to this quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I do not care for life’s baubles, nor do I crave fame, <br>I am not in ore of Beauty, for it is shallow, <br>A dream, which will haunt the fickle<br>My love is for you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Kept safe, among the fields of gold, <br>Safe in our English meadow, <br>Waiting for the sun, to seed our love once more<br>For she makes me more, <br>Than, I am meant to be<br>And my poem of love I give to you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Steven+Cooke">Steven Cooke</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=521243" data-title="An English Love de Steven Cooke" data-description="Not a rose, or a lily, 
But a buttercup
Languishing in a field of gold, 
In some English meadow
Waiting to give herself to him.

That boy with the impetuous smile, 
And the eyes of Perseus
That hides a spirit, more delicate than any poet’s heart..."></div>
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