I Try to Read With an Open Mind/ How Lucky Barrett Browning Was

I used to trust the ins and outs of love,
A true heart’s allegiance unrestrained,
A banner flying proudly bore the name,
Of one who I could never give enough.
Giving freely, with nothing to atone,
While hoping for reciprocal respect,
After all, if there is no giving back,
Your self condemned to wander lost, alone.
With single candle searching far and wide,
Condemned to venture off the beaten path,
Carrying a rope as spelunkers will,
Not to become lost in winding caverns.
Or like a miner and his caged bird,
Relying on its tiny yellow songs,
In sacrifice to breaths of poisoned air,
Its hopeful feathered heartbeat ceased to stir.
Fortunate Barrett Browning in her verse,
To keep the knowledge where she could be found,
Whether fictitiously in Portugal,
Or on some other oft imagined shore.
Protection of true love from its reverse,
Lies in firm fidelity to your self.