My Lady Poem by Patrick Fealy

Standing by my lady
little as a child
Voice of tender mercy
a sound without beguile
Like music born of loveliness
her voice just called my name
I was kneeling at her feet
while standing just the same
Longing just to win her
In the morning air
hoping but to kiss her hand
so fragrant and so rare
Directing me to kindness
were fingers soft and wild
Lovely as the lily
sweet nature's honey child
Beauty so resplendent
almost like a dream
Round and so transcendent
with heaven's light that beams
After her came darkness
when she did depart
leaving only sweetness there
upwelling from my heart