Late-Flowering Love - Poem by Nigel Stuart
Despite my weight and top teeth ten,
I bare a constant grin,
For I have now more joy, than when
I failed at first to sin.
I plunged my fingers through your hair
On heathland high ’bove shame,
And you consumed, with gulping air,
A tongue which laved your name.
Since then a screen, spun round our eyes,
Has flamed and fleered with light,
That’s warmly whirled a pulsing world
Of futures ’fore our sight.
Once dulled orbs, shine on fecund days,
Which late were barren borne,
And mouths, that puckered with woe’s ways,
Gasp, hungry, for each dawn.
I cling to you, by love wrapped round,
As now you cleave to me.
I feel how wondrously we’re bound,
To share what’er will be.
Few months - or many years - remain?
And in them - what new life?
We’ve done the past, the dreadful pain -
Lost husband and lost wife.
So, longer let our bodies cling,
And let joy shout above
All that would wither, at its Spring,
Our proud late-flowering love.
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