But when I told the cruel scorn That crazed that bold and lovely Knight, And that he crossed the mountain-woods, Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade,— There came and looked him in the face An angel beautiful and bright; And that he knew it was a Fiend, This miserable Knight! First, I think love poems just aren't my thing unless you're Shakespeare, in which case, you do you and gimme all the sonnets ever.
In this seasonal option of unrequited love poems, she talks of how love fades away and gardens that were once glorious in summer are now silent and snowy.
I avoided you because I had to face the fact that in 9 months I had to live life without you in it.
To touch, to smell, to visualize, the wonders that occur.