of Red and Brown

On the one hand is the head of pale Red
Whose temper flairs with summer’s lurid fires
And then there's Brown whose love does choose to bed
Though two loves do burn deep in my desires

Within the Brown there is a prior claim
But the antics of the Red are such fun
My choice to choose is what they wish to tame
How difficult I find to choose but one

O silent confessor, most hallowed moon,
From whom so many hath request their dream
How do I flee this spider webbed cocoon
To be with Red or Brown I cannot glean

"Do choose between us two," I have been told.
Two Loves, synonymous, is this so bold?
1991