A Poem, for my Love
Oh Muse, holder of the key to my heart,
keystone of the base of my gentle soul,
you who set the hearth-fire of my passion
ablaze, as the curtain of the heavens,
when it is pulled back, to reveal the stars
in their glorious multitude shining
brightly in the darkness of the black night,
so fiercely does my love shine for my own
Aurora, bringer of the bright new day.
Verdant valleys rolling gently across
the land sadly sigh as they are resigned
to see how their cresting, rolling, round hills
fail to curve as delightfully as the
lovely swell of your wide, well-formed, perfect
hips. As the waves of the sea toss and foam,
so do they lift aloft my body, sailor
upon your sweet ocean, adrift in your love.
Your gentle arms envelope my in warmth,
restoring my spirit after the world
has worn it away, as when the river,
rushing and writhing, wears down the strong stone
as long years go flowing, slowly wending
away, so my soul grows weary and tired.
Through gentle touches, kisses, love so dear
brings back my joy, returned to me doubly
by the bubbling waters, burbling through cracks
as they splash and rain down upon my skin,
so does the spring shower gracefully fall
from your fingertips, tenderly tending
to me, restored by the touch of your hand.
Intertwined at the roots, the strongest tree
shall never know the twisted tangle of
our legs and arms, knotted, tightly tied in
embrace, closer still than the stands of pine
that hug, and hold each other upright.
We lay and sigh sweetly and listen as
those trees groan and sway, knowing never will
they rest with another, head on broad chest,
as closely as do we, lovers always.
The shore could never pleas as long or as
loudly for the touch of the crashing wave
as do I for the press of your gentle
lips upon mine, my dearest, darling love.