My beloved's hair
fell folding to the ground
And honey'd wine was mingled with her tears
as lips that brushed against the opening of mine
Made music swim in oceans' deepest ears.
And when in time
we stood upon the shore
Of mystic moods spread out beyond all sight
there came into my mind an image fair
That cast the sun in shadow with its light.
And there, upon the sand that was her bed
we mingled in the dew of morning's myrrh
And spread our arms to enfold each others' love
in intermingled halls
Where silence stirs.
by John Charles Puddefoot
|
