Across my sky thou bolted in a blur,
More felt than seen, a searing blaze of light;
Thou sayest I recall thee not aright,
O'er my own eyes have cast a false glamour.
Yet in my senses mem'ry doth demur...
Thy scent and shape were true as sound or sight;
Blinded by Love, I took in ev'ry height,
Depth, breadth of thee, and gather'd by texture
What words had led astray; my arms have held
What tropes had dropp'd. That last touch of thy lip
Spoke thy own longing, not misunderstood...
Flashing and rumbling, thou my tremors quell'd...
Tender, yet cracked final as a whip.
Forget? I could not, even if I would.
Love's Truth
'Tis true my fingers listened to thy lies:
The buoyancy of thee, thy silken hairs
Behind thee flapping like a spaniel's ears
As panting he doth prance with mischief's eyes
Up to his mistress, bidding her caress
(Full well he knoweth he'd deserved tears,
Considering but slightly all the cares
He'd giv'n) me charm'd for very shamelessness.
I love thee, and I know that I'm a fool.
Such lessons hath my merry trickster taught,
Denying sense, while he to sense appeal'd,
And broke my heart, as I have broke his rule.
Humour and hormone, feeling, into thought,
Flesh into word: thus is Love's truth reveal'd.
Rosamunde del Shore A.S. XXXIII