The dream oft would whisper
– honoria,
Rolling off my tongue,
Lingering as I woke,
Its’ soft connotations undefined
At the back of my mind.
And now I find I've searched
My life long for just that.

Around 12 c., love was not
Falling, it was not the sickness
Of yearning, it made everything
Wonderful. It was the best that
Could happen. Men were the lover
And women the beloved.

Honor
Honor
To trust in someone as
They trust in you.
Open, honest and truthfully,
To live in honor.
My god the thought of attaining
Some portion, some merit of this
Thrills me to no end. To live
Happy and with out guise.