For My Friend

My precious find, my dearest friend,
I am ever grateful to you, my sweet,

For sharing with me whatever you had to give,
For bearing with me when I made it arduous to live.


You know? What will come is yet to bide,
Yet what is spent is in our hearts to tide,

What you may think or I may perceive,
let that be;
Even the lord's own prescriptions
do not cure disease,let us not feign,

When the tiresome mating game
is realised to be one and all the same,


For we see hearts united and souls split,
Bodies together, minds asunder,


Minds at pace, but else discordant,
But not distracted was the great spirit
When you and I were grafted.

Yours,
A friend.