A Lark Ascending
The evening and her breezes belong to me.
She invites me to compose passages for her,
To accompany our rapturous intimacy.
Eagerly, discreetly, with quiet desire, I oblige,
Scoring a romance, note by mellifluous note,
As though I were Vaughan Williams,
Even though no blithe birdsongs
Lift from the pear trees' leafy, fidgeting limbs,
Sublime into passional night.
Suddenly, within my ears' near distance,
I hear one lovely creature hovering, fluttering,
Just above my pen's bowstrings,
Whispering to me, with its twittering,
The most exquisite lyrics I've ever listened to.
And in this suspended instant, a lark ascends.
10/20/09 - (2)
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