‘TIS AN IDLE FANCY – A poem by Deepak Menon

I love HER? How can you say that?
I tell you it is not true!
You insist! Even when it isn’t a fact?
Oh! How can I convince you?
I do not believe a word you say!
And even if I did, so what?
So what if throughout the day
My brow is feverish and hot?
So what if from my deepest slumber
I start and then to her call out?
So what if efforts to erase her memory
Have by time – been put to rout?
So what if I only think of her
And talk and dream and live her name?
So what if my eyes are often filmed
With tears of sorrow, lingering shame
That I could not my conscience still
And keep my tryst with destiny’s call?
So what if her image my heart does fill
So what if she holds my heart in thrall?
‘Tis nonsense, once more I tell you
You are mistaken though you know me well
Even though away with my soul she flew
‘Tis an idle fancy, – can’t you tell?

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