‘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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