Silver and Roses, Henna and Myrrh

 

 

To a Gentling Thief

 

Thy love has hung a veil before mine eyes,

And pale I see the erstwhile golden Sun,

And muted his bright dazzle from me flies,

So tender thou this gossamer hast spun.

I now descry the things I once beheld,

And azure takes the place of royal blue.

Like jasmine now, I once like leather smelled,

And by ‘my glory’, I ‘my love’ construe.

I saw the world as if I were an oak,

But now a pliant willow I have waxed.

Stern yesterday, today I gently stroke

With gentled hands the pride I have relaxed.

The frown of arrogance my face has left,

For I must blush at thine unhindered theft.

 

 

                        Friday, January 31, 1969

 

Image: http://fc53.deviantart.com/fs13/f/2007/108/c/9/Veil_Of_The_Empyreal_Sun_by_j4m3sb0nd.jpg