Good night, sweet shieldmaiden.

Your delicate brow

furrowed into regard,

dreamily hunts the meadow’s bounty,

meandering waters shores,

the tranquil eddy,

felling words as timbers

while rivers’ currents smooth rough stones into pebbles.

 

I loved you like earth’s want of morning,

Sun’s warmth coaxing leaves’

breath over hills

stretched forth

yawning bloom on frosty crests;

seasons reckoned

with darting shadows on winged phantoms’ cry.

I’d not leave you,

lonely,

this wondrous firestorm

sleeping,

in stretches of dusk,

the long expanse a dream;

rather sitting on porch and home, braiding

the days

years

hours

months –

moments’ weave,

our advances into spaces unknown,

land, families and

names

as waters curl and swell.

Time’s press

against curvature of the earth

against the slate grey roof tile under

stars shining lore

stir, as eddy’s respite

then a young night blooming

happily penning fiery sketches

illuminating your mangrove orchard heart

in gilded Spring

and planet’s tremble.

Slowly

our love’s tendrils’

climb,

not unlike smoldering coals’

flare under ash;

against time.

The maze

runs tight circuits

along cool surface ambivalence

and hidden oceans

shy to admit

our flickering light inside.

The cloak unfurling on those occasions, when, often,

your face, looking focused, like a hawk,

suddenly softens.

Your eyes open wide, just a moment, before

the deep coffee bean hue of your iris’ delight, shining,

and that lovely nose,

it’s stately ridge,

scrunched up

because you are laughing.