I rose to cherish beauty
But darkness blocked my door
I thought you’d never find me
Now lie my love once more
I rose to cherish beauty
But darkness blocked my door
I thought you’d never find me
Now lie my love once more
Inside you?
Are self-evidently, irresistibly
superior
and thus will prevail
How would and when proud
astride the wind you go?
With beauty and time you never know.
Our living is dying. God made it so.
Keeps dumping beauty and grace:
the cornflower, the gentian,
the shadow game
and streak of light.
The pretty eye,
the inward sigh,
the clearing mind
and day we might.
She had, surprisingly, not
the perfect flaw
of a few fine lines –
a hairline crack
in Delftware –
but that more pronounced blemish,
a varicose vein.
Or, as one once put it,
a very-close vein,
very close to you and me.