For years I have used the happiness Of our love to cover me well at night And poised it during days to cool my eyes. In rains it is silk drawn snugly tight Over bowed ribs of steel to shelter me From drops of ennui that pierce the mains Of my life. Like phosphorus aflame on water Is our love that quickens our pulsing veins By the touch alone of finger-tip or cheek; And this love, though not young, cannot speak. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THAT HOLY THING by GEORGE MACDONALD AN HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL'S RETURN FROM IRELAND by ANDREW MARVELL THE POET AND HIS BOOK by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE RIVER IN THE MEADOWS by LEONIE ADAMS THE STORK by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM MY MOTHER by GEORGE WASHINGTON BETHUNE |