What is the use of a bed without a
Woman upon it, to sculpture the sheets
With her form and the pillows with her play
And make the springs sing at her deep love’s feats?
And what is the use of an hour of night
Or an hour of the day not resonant
With sighs and names? Darkness is far too light
And day too heavy when love’s too distant.
And what is the use of waking before
Her if not to watch her face intently
Hoping, waking, it is you she looks for
Because you lie upon her mind, gently?
No dawn breaks as happy as those when she
Moves, opens her eyes, turns and looks for me.
…………………
The book grows. Jonathon is busy finishing the portraits and all being well we shall have a book of poems out before Christmas.