Sunday, December 21, 2008


He swore the stars were roses and that he
Would weave me wreathes of them: that every beam
That glows like dewdrops in the moonlight gleam
I would wear crowned in triumph: fine and free.

I would be crowned in triumph: fine, fair, free.
At his command the sun rose like a dream.
He vowed like Jove: love-humbled, on his knee.
Now all my tears like the vast ocean teem.

O in his hands were love, and in his eyes,
And in his arms a safety from the storm,
And in his passion love's oblivion:
A place I would be safe and would be warm.

He pledged his love through the undying years,
And I believed him : now I'm filled with tears.

c. 1999 Anissa Nedzel Gage

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