How to go and forget, the love I seek,
Never will you hold me, memory is weak.
How to go and forget, the past’s hold,
The unloved whispers to his beloved’s name,
In the shadows echoes love’s eternal flame.

This is the shape of a leaf, delicate and fine,
Supplication for a love, both yours, it should be mine.
Never will you hold me, the story’s been told,
We met on roads of laughter, life’s sweet song,
Come, let us find a rainy melody, love lifelong.

A voyager’s song, a rhyme for remembrance,
The gift after a storm, love’s renaissance.
The unloved to his beloved, he does implore,
Golden hair, faithful, fairness wedded to a star,
So beautiful you are, no matter how near or far.

Indeed, bodily beauty, hope, a fleeting art,
Your beauty, the poets describe as love’s heart.
To mend what’s broken, to love evermore.
In misty blue, on the height of love’s crest,
A song of little things, in hearts, it nests.

A pair of lovers, entwined in passion’s embrace,
Possessions and debts, love’s tender chase.
This is the shape of a leaf, so delicate and fine,
Transformation of souls, certainly enough the spell,
Reparation of hearts, where true love dwells.

The gown of affection, in faith, a white dream so vast,
If you should tire of loving, love’s shadow cast.
A supplication to nature, hope in the design,
That you love me at last, our hearts entwined,
In the dance of eternity, our souls combined.

We met on roads of laughter, hand in hand,
Come, let us find a rainy song, across the land.
A voyager’s song, a rhyme for remembrance,
Golden hair, faithful, fairness wedded to a star,
So beautiful you are, from near to far.

Indeed, bodily beauty, a sight to behold,
your beauty, a treasure, more precious than gold,
The gift after a storm, a moment’s recompense,
The poet describes love, a hope, in misty blue,
On the height of emotions, love anew.

A song of little things, in quiet delight,
A pair of lovers, under the moonlight,
Reparation, the gown, the white dream unfurls,
Possessions, debts, transformation, they weave,
Certainly enough, the spell of love, they believe.

The clover, a leaf short of luck, crushed in hand
Never will you hold me, yet I demand
If you should tire of loving, my heart hurls,
That you love me at last, in the end’s embrace,
A love eternal, in time and in space.

This is part of a TABLE OF CONTENTS restraint poem- In this constraint, I have taken a Poetry Anthology originally published in 1925. Each section contains 20-40 titles. My Constraint was to use as many words as possible in the table of contents to construct a new Poem.