I Have No Thoughts Of Loving You Until Tomorrow Poem by Mark Heathcote

I have no thoughts of loving you until tomorrow.
As in life or death, do we part from our marriage?
So it is. I will adore you more tomorrow.
When we are both married and I am on my deathbed,

In bygone eras, mummers will arise.
In which whispers will become audible
and tears will still roll, ill-advised.
But still, you'll think it laudable.

Grievous fear, salacious lies
Angels watching from the skies
You'll feel as if a cloud is performing.
A vortex of rain, a snowstorm,

You will dance as if it were a loveless marriage.
I'll pretend wholeheartedly not to disparage,
Oh, consumed by unrequited love
I will willingly fly a dearly departing dove.