With me

 With Me

All day she told me

She could sit and

listen to the poetry

And I had just enough

audacity

to believe her

so I stacked deep

the volumes of

Clare 

Yeats 

Burns 

Stevens 

even

some of my own

and waited to read the one

that began with the line:

Maid of the wilderness,

Sweet in thy rural dress,

Fond thy rich lips I press

Under this tree.

then:

I thought of your beauty, and this arrow

Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow.

to:

Come, let me take thee to my breast,

And pledge we ne'er shall sunder, 

And i shall spurn as vilest dust

The world's wealth and grandeur!

finally:

God and all angels sing the world to sleep,

Now that the moon is rising in the heat

And crickets are loud again in the grass. 

The moon burns in the mind of

lost remembrances.

And I would have read them all

Had we but the time

But came the arrow

the vile dust

the heat

and this Robert Frosty 

simply melted away.