If this ball sits in your court any longer,
it will begin to decay,
and turn this balled up heart of mine into dust of dust.
The wind will eventually come,
and blow it briskly away,
in the most hazardous manor of one strong, swift gust.
I can’t be held accountable,
for what I daresay,
if this should be the unjust fate, of my timid heart, which with you I did entrust.
(originally from November 23, 2011)