Sacred Garden Poem by M A Parry Eugene

Marvel divine meets in the manner of your eyes' skiey oceanic grace,
Angel-like your innocence that kindling pure love sojourns in your soul's face;
Nomadic madness seized, my days are bright and nights full of flowers and dreams sweet,
Mere thought of you suffuses my senses with perfume pristine, and does beat,
Earthly airs: trouble and torment of diurnal dabble deeds,
Elysian touch, the magic of wise syllables and your lip's meads;
To you do I turn, in spirit and sense, when it is too much to take,
Teasing tinkles of the wild world: brilliant shallow and so fake!
Must you let me into the secret sacred garden that you weave,
Silently savour me the best of you still but till my last heave!