Waiting

We parted softly in the morning mist,
Thick trees about us silver-leaved with dew;
You went a winding path of shadows dim,
I went a blinding way that blazed with you.
Now all day long I picture lightning true—
Your palm lifted, my lips that found and kissed,
Your half-closed eyes that sang a yearning hymn,
My moving mouth remembering your throat.
The hours slowly pass, move less, stand still;
They’d be winged birds could they but know my will!
I’ve had you once, like sailor with new boat,
And wait the wind of passion’s night to rise
And sweep us in its tempest wild with thrill
That lights the glorious islands of your eyes!

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