I KNOW of all the words I speak or write,I Precious and woven of a vibrant sound,None ever snares your faith, intrigues you quite,Or sends you soaring from the solid ground.You are the level-headed lover whoCan match my fever while the kisses last,But you are never shaken through and through;Your roots are firm after the storm has passed.
I shall know nights of tossing in my sleepFondling a hollow where a head should lie;But you a calm review, no tears to weep,No wounds to dress, no futile breaths to sigh.Ever this was the way of wind with flame:To harry it, then leave swift as it came.
