deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Lovers

 

In the morning when She wakes,
She spreads her love o'er lands and lakes

And as She rises from her bed
She shines her grace on every head

She strolls serene across the lands
Forests, fields, and desert sands

And when She tires and turns to bed
Her Lover rises in Her stead

Up stares through darkness, as She sleeps
Her Sentinel in silver creeps

He holds his vigil through the night
In reverent reflection of her light

And dreams of moments on her lips
That even love cannot eclipse.
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