Enviable Grace
But for one touch, thy loving hand, ne'er more these hands shall sully,
To place upon, a golden band, hence look to death unhurried,
Oh goddess of such countenance, with kiss of dawn's sweet blush,
Whence lilting vocals shall enchant, all songbirds voices hushed,
Un-foot-printed thy blessed path, where e'er thee goes but lightly,
As spreads profusion all thy pass, endeavouring to delight thee,
The Sun hath brushed thine waking eyes, lent beauty to thy face,
That all in envy realise, in presence they are graced,
With fine-spun woven tresses, of gossamer to frame,
Majestic art impresses, and sets all hearts aflame,
What pallet couldst achieve thus, with brush strokes born celestial,
Whence magic doth deceive us, artistic, not terrestrial,
On ethers wings thy body's born, as moves without a sound,
All majesty within thy form, where fantasies abound,
Once tasted of thine passion fruits, hath supped from Eros' fount,
Forsaken sapient resolute, all sanity surmounts,
Valhalla's portals thee commands, entreating of my soul,
That this mere mortal take thy hand, thy loving make me whole.
© mjl
