PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The ankle bracelet that you like to wear

so faithfully---outside, or in our bed---

is woven cleverly from strands of thread

so closely inter-wound as not to tear,

or break, or come unraveled.  On your bare

ankle beneath your robe's hem (or, at night,

your nakedness), it clings, quite comfortable

but not constricting; supple, not too tight;

not at all garish; shyly, beautiful,

the way you are.  It takes its look from you---

likewise its value and its meaning too.

Adorned by you, it is empowered to be

the foremost metaphor or simile

of purpose traced throughout my poetry.

Now, after love, the fragrance of your skin,

the softness of your long hair spilled around

me; our hands clasped, our limbs tangled together---

all these are real, not just some "might have been."

They bring me to contentment, so profound

that any other thought seems like a nether

indulgence that intrudes, disrupts, or mars.

Truly this is a literal ecstasy

that neither art, nor artifice, can capture.

Freed from my clumsy carcass, totally

surrendered to your love---that constellation

more iridescent than the summer's stars---

I am transformed into pure adoration,

and launched into this foretaste of our rapture.

You snuggle close to me and drift to sleep,

spent in our love. And I, more satisfied

than ever, will---a little longer---keep

this vigil.  In these few words, I have tried

to tell you just how good it is to be

one flesh with you; no more just "I" or "me"

alone, but now---in Christ, saved---"us" and "we."

You shared with me your first intimacy.

You frolic barefoot in my poetry.

I will not squander these on furtive glances,

nor turn away in troubled circumstances,

for Love is steady (only lust takes chances).

Finally, I have belonged . . . to Jesus' Grace,

among the saved, and your ample embrace.

Starward

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