Who rises from the banks of the river 
And runs through a blanket of flowers to me? 
Though knowing promised fruits she will deliver 
I plan seduction with a ring the key. 
Oh how sweet to rest in her arms flung wide! 
They're ever waving as her feet skip bare, 
Toes twinking from dew, a smile of a bride, 
Then she stands tip toe - no kiss is so rare! 
In her arms, blue shooting stars come to me; 
Seen that night from her land on the lawn; 
My pocket, the sapphire ring held safely 
Born for the moment when we should both yawn. 
A ring for her finger promised July; 
That the stars ordained it, who could deny? 
How shall the lover hope to be happy 
Whom fate has severed from his love's sweet breast, 
Parted by distance longer than should be? 
He should listen to the blowing wind's request 
And stand under the Golden Elm each day 
And let Nature tell of love in her heart. 
Falls the frailest leaf - "Your love's leaf, last will stay." 
The swinging spider's silver line says its part, 
"Oh your love is strong, so beautiful." 
The pearl rain drop that runs down the line agrees 
And adds - "Your love's so caring, so gentle." 
"Never oh never!" voice surrounding trees 
"Will your true love's heart fail you from afar 
Just as winds will blow while our sun's a star."
Thursday, March 22, 2007
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