to her

her snowy face
I dropped a stone
in the water and saw
the Dewey hair
the dissonance
of birds in a forest
bewitched
and I never knew
such love as this
her foggy skin
dissipated and
I knew love
was a parting thing

her fair complexion
where rivers meet
wanderers roaming
they sing songs to
her love the seafoam
and i saw her stare
fixed on me
i couldn't speak
not for lack of wanting
but because the sun shines
midst her hearts deep whispering
her dark beam
to reflect her
and out of longing, i knew
the gate bid me home

for though I knew
her flesh was fleeting
and many a tear
I shed, half expecting this
ending, I felt her pale rosy lips
taken and picked by pilgrims
and the renewal bumblebees bring
and her glass features so
distant and loving
i felt the stain as well the sting
of the evening i do not know
but the rose is still growing
the storm is now calming
the whole of the town
and she brings sweet rain
to cleanse my sight so taken
for granted, that too of
my touch, for she made me realise
this much
meant love to me

and now I see her
with the weather
and it's passing
this warm fire
come next September
I shall be accepting
of what she be
a song to hum
a love to feel
a known God to bless the world
to make everyone as loving
and as lovely as her cold chill
at night, forever delighting
the worst and best and autumnal breath
every word that she speaks
to me is festering under
a cosmos recorded
i am a hermit and with her the spring
that too the winter and the summer
beginning,
showing she is my
everything