One Week

One week, one week the sun’s streamed in. I sing
of coffee-cups, dark beers, and German wine.
You have transformed each minute, action, thing.

Something breathes in my life. It is the Spring.
Of snow’s touch, wind’s play, sudden marvellous shine
(one week, one week the sun’s streamed in) I sing.

What is this warmth, this freshness that you bring?
How is it that, in ways I can’t define,
you have transformed each minute, action, thing?

My dealings alter. Some new offering
is made on my behalf. It is more fine.
One week, one week the sun’s streamed in. I sing

of arm-touch, dancing, natural spin and fling;
of lying in light upon our dark incline.
You have transformed each minute, action, thing.

And now my mind has opened like a wing.
I look upon a world that can’t be mine.
One week, one week the sun’s streamed in. I sing!
You have transformed each minute, action, thing.

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