Classic Poem

I

You are like startled song-wings against my heart
Which flutters like a harp-string wounded
By too much quivering music.
You cover me with a blue dream-robe
Whose silk ripples out like imaged water . . . .
And when, for a moment, you leave,
I am a black sky awaiting its moon.

II

If I could be moon-light scattered out
Over the blowing dark-blue hair
Of kneeling, flowing crystal breezes
Breathing a litany of pale odors;
If I could be moonlight scattered out
Over the whispers meeting in your heart,
The marriage of our souls would be
No more complete than now.

I

You are like startled song-wings against my heart
Which flutter like a harp-string wounded
By too much quivering music.
You cover me with a blue dream-robe
Whose silk ripples out like imaged water . . . .
And when, for a moment, you leave,
I am a black sky awaiting its moon.

II

If I could be moon-light scattered out
Over the blowing dark blue hair
Of kneeling, flowing crystal breezes
Breathing a litany of pale odors:
If I could be moon-light scattered out
Over the whispers meeting in your heart,
The marriage of our souls would be
No more complete than now.

III

Like a delicately absent-minded guest,
Your smile sometimes lingers after
Your lips are solemn.
And once I saw a tear in your eye
Playing hide-and-go-seek with some leaping, dimpled memory.
These things, to me, are like flitting perfume
Tantalizing the weariness of my heart.

IV

The struggle of a smile craving birth
Invades her little weeping faun's face
And even makes her tear-drops leap . . . .
She smiles as only grief can smile:
A smile like ashes caught within
A tiny whirlwind of light;
When the light goes, the ashes drape her face
Till even her lips seem grey.