Friday, May 25, 2007

Delight for Only Her

This year I will start my 12th year as a married man. Yep, in June my beautiful wife and I will have been married 11 years. Amazing!

Thank you, my darling, for putting up with me (I know it is often not very easy).

Thank you for being the best wife a man could ask for.

Thank you for being the most awe-inspiring mother to our daughter I can imagine.

Thank you for being who you are, each day.

I wrote this poem for my wife years and years ago, before she was my wife, actually. I figured it was time to take it out, dust it off and show it the light of day once again.

Delight For Only You

Morning throws her golden light toward my lover's eyes;
Twin spheres of beauty who are upon the gentle sky.
And I beheld her beauty, for ecstasy and delight,
And with fanciful calm, peaceful, safe and arrogant,
Fill'd the heart of the obliging smile that she gave to me;
And so I received this fantasy, built from pleasures,
Cast in kindness; feather'd with hope, ever patient.

There with Lust, she danced in light and airy rain;
A fete for my abandon'd heart:
Her voice whose honeyed passion can reclaim
A spirit chain'd with links of pain.
Her eyes, alone in solitude,
Her lips a red that caught the sun, and morning's mist;
Upon her body lay the dew;
There dance, wreath'd in morning's gem,
The weeping of the rising sun,
With words of love calmed my frighten'd soul;
I saw the softest blue heav'n could intend.
In whispers from her flawless lips,
The wonder of a zephyr's laugh;
A wondrous wind that seeps this heart
And leads me down this fated path.

We live with this obsession:
Love us free from waiting death!
Around her perfect eyes, her soul's flawless image,
Like stars within the blackest night,
Living orbs of a lover's delight'd kiss.

To love her seraph's soul - so was I made,
In the breath of her dreams, and pass'd the ghastly moon;
A second self, chaste upon the midnight shade;
Fill'd with teardrops ne'er seen.

In you wonder and magic and calm in corporeal form;
The quiet mystery within the blackest storm.
With azure love that bursts upon my scarlet heart,
My lover's smile is true. Now my love before my eyes appear'd:
Bright, affectionate, just: an angel she seem'd;
Wherein my heart was laid her soul:
My soul did repose upon a silver cloud.

Beneath the whispering winds,
Like trees rock'd by spring's gentle breath;
My heart shall beat measure to her laughter, and delight;
And with its ethereal magic shall masque the shadow of yonder pain,
As midnight cries in the light of the moon.

The moon you now rule, and caress the absent stars,
The power of its eyes dim the halls of heav'n no longer.
Strok'd by the hands of this enamour'd kiss, a love divine;
Build a fair castle, paved with emeralds,
And the roof a frozen forest's call.

Your voice, whose laughter fill the hush'd wind
With everlasting joy,
Kiss'd the clouds, and gave the night its life;
The gentle moon, its yellow brilliance
Pierce the depths of my vanity's deep sorrow,
Whose violence made griefs that need your love.
--Paul-Baptiste
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