I return to the summer house in pastoral autumn
Over the splendours beyond your far dimension
Waves of Time in hopeful absolute cropping the hay
In strength of soul finger trace soil in flaming need
In the blessing of innocence the long thoughts wordless
Freedom of age so vast it has no georgraphy love bliss
No touch of the tongue to flesh angels playing and winging
Holding a white against blue cleaving white over blue
Fields of abundance littered with feathers whispering infinity
Such hours stirring of a petal rose senseless on your king chest
Moving in slowness of a long caress in your strong arms
Meadows in the music of silence together in art and heart
Author notes
A little poem for my elegant man and husband. Pour les soupirs de ton coeur et de ton ame. You are the greatest poet and artist! Jt'aime becs xx
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