DEARLY BELOVED ONE
DEARLY BELOVED ONE
It’s time to ask the morning sun,
sweet treat of day, to be
gentle in its early rise and late demise
in this year’s June illuminations.
May you know the need for
one of us to rest our head so
all of night’s too short dominion
be tightly matched; for sleep will
leave long-time tired eyes to open
slowly, which otherwise might catch
a ride far faster than the smallest fraction
of the speed required by kinder rays
to warm from the bottom to the top
the garden we considered was
the closest we came to Paradise.
And with that squared away
we could share our Heaven with
so many loves and friends; we
leavened our own lives in seeking
to respond to their own concerns,
heard in words that pass to and fro’;
and we did what we could to give back
at least the reciprocal of all those things
so breezily bestowed on us by these
truly welcome garden helpers – again,
we thank them for all they’ve done
in the trying times, the times for tears,
the times when temptation almost
shut the doors with false promises of
the end of cares, of all-day caresses.
And before we think we’re sure of
the course we’ll take, the last one
to endure, we’ll talk as once we did
to remind ourselves of the reasons why
we’re still in the garden, a gift from
someplace way up high that we know will
lead us, if we wish, through opened gates
which recall the one-ness of the whole shebang –
it matters nought the sort of man
who would be called king when life’s short game
confirms that it’s actually what you say and do
(a name’s as of nothing to me and to you).
And with that in mind we can safely press
our lips together to say I love you, I worship you,
thank you – then saunter our ways down and through
the garden to keep its looks as lovely as ever,
an emblem of our lives’ endeavours,
a semblance certainly of heavenly bliss
an arbour to stop and steal a kiss.
Tue 31st May 2022 19:49
I find this moving, Peter. And Shakespearean.
If you wish to post a comment you must login.