You will come one day in a waver of love,
Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,
The tan of the sun will be on your skin,
The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,
You will pose with a hill-flower grace.
You will come, with your slim, expressive arms,
A poise of the head no sculptor has caught
And nuances spoken with shoulder and neck,
Your face in a pass-and-repass of moods
As many as skies in delicate change
Of cloud and blue and flimmering sun.
You may not come, O girl of a dream,
We may but pass as the world goes by
And take from a look of eyes into eyes,
A film of hope and a memoried day.
I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom for many a May
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand – Did one but know!
ONE EYE. a poem. I used to be – a – Single – Eye! It was not fun, and, oft, I’d sigh! No depth perception, no matching pair . . . just one eye . . . and did I stare! Looking for another I – somewhere – out there . . I might spy? Just one other eye for me”! Just One I – for which to see – Nothing 3 – D, nothing full – Every day – Was push and pull! “What’s the reason? to-see-at-all!” I’d ask myself. I would call : OUT, into the Great Wild Haze, seeking one more I to gaze. Upon a World so contrived! I did give up! Then, you arrived! To give me sight – And Love – And Hope – Two eyes combined, so we won’t mope . . . BUT clever-ly we’ll seek design: I love you – Eye – will you be mine? ❤