Ode To Galatea Poem by Resten Swondo

My eyes gently rest on her beautiful face
And all the follies of the human race
Lay whittled down to the last twig.
It was not in some Divine order,
Some heat of battle sweated
Fortitude that offered respite
From the threat of eternal extinction.
It was in her arms, in embrace of her heart,
That sweet redemption was found, unbounded.
For this, I dutifully bear her Love, and she mine.