Читать книгу Mission 777 Possible - Марина Спроуз - Страница 80

Leaves entwined in braids,

Why should I grieve?

It’s October now,

How long to wait indeed…

How I wait for you,

How I long – it’s true,

You – my dream so dear,

Long-awaited too.

I am sick – because of you,

I am sick.

You – my love and disease,

You – my betrothed.

October rustles leaves so dry,

Why feel dismay?

I am ill – because of you,

And I like it this way.

Headache grips, oh, so tight,

What more can I say?

I’ll call you right now,

Better than to write.

I’ll dial your number now,

As I’m unwell.

You – my love and vow,

With eyes so grey.