In dawnʼs first light, in thoughts of purest love,
I gaze with humble fire upon a sigh
Mute soft, and tender, ready to be kissed,
As velvet grass by morningʼs humble mist.

Let fate depress your charméd lips to mine
As though sweet destiny was meant for love,
And memʼry not for then, as for tomorrow –
Peasant dreams of riches, dressed in sorrow.

And you will be the oracle to truth
In measured rays of willow-bending fears;
And in a bond of beauty, ever-clear,
All-flowing with each silent tear.

Let memʼryʼs tears self-crucify in love
And never look again, but in our way
To kindle fresher dreams, and melt as one
Into a scented fire, heaven sweet
With present love.


March 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011