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Monday, July 8, 2019

The Day of Love


All I caught of love
Was her long blonde braid
My finger felt a lock,
Around a curl of corn-silk I played

Her head was turned
Away in the gentlest curve
Her face hidden from me,
Never a word

But her braid did speak
A sweet, tiger-lily tone
Whispered a grace
A softness never known

When strands swished
In the wind of her neck
Below the lips
Of love yet met

Then it went too soon,
Her braid flowing away
Leaving a golden trail
I followed through the day

I had to learn
The face, the lips, the eyes
Had to tear this model love 
From its disguise

The lightly braid
I did not stray my sight
But stayed its captive
Under the night

And into the late stars
That caught her curls
As over shoulder 
the flaxen weight she twirls

With membered touch
Of the curl that morn
Was the moment
My soul was born

It searched its mate
To the foot of her door…
She answered and I wondered
At her beauty no more

Beyond any 
My mind had guessed
Her face surpassed
Aphrodites test

I passed the night
In the glow of that face
Bathed so sweet
I near feared its taste

Where her lips smiled
And her eyes laughed
Her braid framing them
In its royal shaft

We stayed together
Til Gods morning broke
Rays of pink and orange
Came her cheek to stroke

Composure near lost,
I asked for a kiss
My desire I prayed
Her not to dismiss

She came forward though,
Her lips in part
Faithful God, I cannot tell
How it did my heart

A moment given
From eternity
Was the power her cherry mouth 
Pulled from me

As I caught the curl, a soft feather
Off the wing of my dove
Blessing it in palm
For leading me to love

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