A quick visit to the bar and we’re down to the cliffs for our last sunset. We snap a few pictures and I know one of them is just about perfect. As we grab a couple of pics together waiting for the sun to go down the iPhone dies. Reminded of what’s really important we turn and share our last sunset this reach in serene satisfaction.
When we return to the room I tell Sweetie Pie that we’ve missed some poetry and I plan on being drunk when we return tonight. “Would you like to be showered with poetry?” I ask. She smiles and I tell her this is the poem I intended for today.
Love's Philosophy
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine? -
See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?
I take the sheet of paper and drop it softly on her belly and continue saying, “This may be the most erotic description of flora and fauna I’ve ever read.”
Come Slowly
a poem by Emily Dickinson
Come slowly, Eden
Lips unused to thee.
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars -alights,
And is lost in balms!
As I finish I drop the page on her chest say, “This is old school flowery verse but I think it is beautiful, appropriate and an absolute reflection of how I feel.”
Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art
a poem by John Keats
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient sleepless eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors;
No yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever or else swoon to death.
I drop the last page on her hips and kiss her…
