Circles

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted by M. Vernet
The Missing Years

Circles

Circular thinking is driving me mad
A thought of you and my heart grows glad.
Yet wait for the turn and worried I’ll be
That you’ll circle back and stop loving me.

Circular rings upon our hands,
Secrets wound in our wedding bands.
Why does a circle mean eternal bliss
When it’s mostly formed of nothingness?

So strong the pull of your circular orbit
I, your moon, circle never to quit.
It seems we have been this way before
Our souls have circled each others orb.

Circular thoughts, please, help me set down.
Placing peace on  my head like a crown.
A circular crown of spiraling vines
Binding me in an endless circle of time.