Time Passing -- A Miscellany of Poems; ŠThor May 1996 index
Your wit does seem to boldly reach,
But at its mark your wish is but a veil;
You feint within a hairsbreath of my heart.
Who last draws blood
Must wield intention with an uncloaked hand.
This was never woman's first command.
Nor was the brazen word.
So hold, sweet voice with hard intent.
Your eyes still tarry
Where a melting touch was meant.
Come friend, enough, do not despise
The flavour of old moments
Rapt and body wise
To blend the colour of our swift eyes.
So I must take you friend,
Word, laugh and gentle touch;
Nor disbelieve your garment,
Veil and prize. Unwrap your giftwrap,
Know your slender boughs,
Hide our seeing eyes with kisses,
Like love, friend,
Our moments without vows.