A Correspondence with my Heart

Be still, oh heart, be still.
You let go too soon your ground
Hold fast for once, stand firm
And let be known you have a will.
Don't let her send you spinning round.
Stand firm, hold fast, be still.

You knavish lump, you fickle fool
Don't follow any errant smile
Or wink, or word of flighty praise
That sends you flying towards the sky
You flying fool, and all the while
Her tricks will give her wanted raise.

She plays with you, oh heart
As if you were a mound of clay
Cliche it seems, but putty molded
Towards her self held torturing way
A trophy won, a swift gained prize
A mantle piece to be displayed.

For once, be selfish to a fault.
Avoid the daggers meant to flay
Before the bludgeoning begins
Withdraw into a place within
Protect yourself, oh heart, be strong.
A careful hand will come along.