Thursday, April 23, 2015

Sometime near daybreak



The stars were like gemstones,
the proverbial diamonds in the sky,
how should I profess my wonder?
The sky, the velvet in the jeweler’s shop
only more resonant with beads of moisture
too minute to see,
except the sky glowed,
the blackness not complete,
and hanging, dangling, in the east,
from a silver strand invisible,
unless you opened your eyes,
a perfect crescent pendant
low in your ample bosom,
Cassiopeia high overhead.

I swear to you I didn’t see the morning
approach like this,
approximate,
my bare feet ice cold
in the dew water grass,
what light, Oh Shakespeare,
what light yonder breaks
the crystal night,
and these poor words
my richest praise.

And still I thought of you,
my heart, be still not,
I will see you
as soon as I can bear,
it is me you will see
if you open your eyes,
my love for you,
not like exquisite
lightening dark,
but these are my feet
and my opened eyes
for you.

4 comments:

dawnmarie said...

Romantic, yes.

I like the picture with the poem.

p.s. I jogged over this way b/c of your Facebook post.

Bert Haverkate-Ens said...

Our camera shows the moon an even tinier sliver. I love seeing the new moon (I don't follow the sky charts). I anticipate it's coming. A few nights it was cupped as if to just spill a little. You could triangulate to the sun already to the north of our west below the horizon.

Trix said...

sweet

Unknown said...

Beautiful imagery, Bert.