I sing the loveliness of you.
The artless hair, the urchin ear,
the luck of beauty flowing through
a face that is a lifetime dear:
slight-lifted nose, high cheeks, a clear
blessing of eye. As if a word
looking to speak, were precious-near
a silent song. Your lips’ sweet chord.
Your lips’ sweet chord, once struck, has such
passionate rise and play, I’m lost.
I celebrate their lovely touch.
And when my fingers, too, have crossed
down from the nape, to shoulder-blades,
a different music takes the tilt
of your new face. In sudden raids
we catch, link, dance to a new lilt.
To a new lilt I turn my song.
For as a sensual river runs
sweet-sharp beautifully along –
a dawning as if of the sun’s
finds us a place on earth to be.
A vista naturally unrolls
of life in love’s reality.
There is a garden and two souls.
Daughter of Love
Handmaiden to the gifts of Earth
Lady of the stars of colour
We will be one
Visit with me the dark and light of space
and know some island-moments for our own
the words of people are a rainforest in air
and we will move
down the wild talkative avenues
and up to our own stillness in time
Queen of quiet
into our twoness
and we will hear the music of the spheres.
And now I celebrate your eyes:
their laughter, and soft-deep
account of the day’s harmonies.
Also in sleep
I love them, as their symphony
is shielded for a while.
Another light’s-play captures me:
to wit, your smile.
There is a singing person, dear,
a grave sweet melody
of light, and light’s warmth, that to hear
is all to me.