"Hitherto"

I write this with a loving hand,

to sew it together with written reprimand,

to lace it loosely for doubt has fallen,

in my heart a weakening called sullen.

                         

 hitherto,

I write this with a loving hand,

for friend, foe, or a lover’s curse to stand,

for short where I find in all my woes,

you’ll be the one who shoots the crow.

                           

hitherto,

I write this with a loving hand,

and I’ll watch it’s black eyes roll like a can,

and I’ll try to catch the feathers that wilt to rote,

never more according to the Edgar Allen Poe.

                            

hitherto...