my love, that singular beauty, is all mine

touched with golden splendor of the gods

sweet as honey, rich as cherry wine

a lively sprite who frolics in the woods

the road is long, the paths are hard and grim

the wood in which he travels shelters griefs

as on he toils, he sings himself a hymn

soft and low, the sweet bearer of sleep

first, he sings his praises to the guides

those who knelt and whispered in his ear

he honors them, and blesses them besides

they who took him in and soothed his fear

next, he sings his praises to the earth 

that deep and joyous song that echoes through

through heat and soil my love found his rebirth

forging in those flames a soul made new

next, he sings his praises down to death

that swift and chilling flash of blinding light

a pure and worthy reason to draw breath

it gifts the soul with clear and truthful sight

next, he sings his praises out to words

those gifts from god unmatched by man nor beast

melodies from heaven, all unstirred 

pain and toil of heart and mind released

last, he sings his praises out to me

calls me beloved, sets altars at my feet

he calls me that which I will ever be

for he’s the love which makes my soul complete

and through the woods my wise, bold love appears

strength within him one with skies above

within my arms, i whisper in his ears

praises back to him who is my love

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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