Poem: Withhold Not, and Enter

Withhold Not, and Enter

Another which is really untitled. Also posted on Mosaic Musings

Would thou withhold from me the thing
thy presence makes me know I need?
Cruel ‘twould be to shade me here,
and even shower mist around and one me,
and yet to grant no sating shower.

Chill to bone am I, or say
that only bones are chilled within,
and want the warmth thy smile swore.
My flesh, though warm, has not the warmth that bone
might take to quench its icy core.

Hollow ‘tis, this life that, sturdy, on thee must depend.
Hollow is a cave; would thou, warm, the chill explore?