Leaves Upon The Trees

O love of mine that holds my outstretched hand,
Hear not the nervous beating of my heart.
What lukewarm embers hath your ardour fanned?
What crackling fire within me do you now start? 
How can I deserve this precious gift of yours?
What deeds have passed twixt this earth and me,
That discounts my wrongs and evens up those scores,
And from this workaday round now sets me free?
Questions with no answers I do fear!
For who can tell how Fate hath rolled the dice?
What chart he chose, my starlit course to steer?
For love - will he exact some earthly price?
  Vex not myself with question such as these;
  For now, love springs as leaves upon the trees.

© Keith Murphy