From Thoreau’s ‘Walden’ ‘The sun is but a morning star.’
Space, lying back in the grass,
leaving dew-soaked impressions,
longing to touch you,
reaching far into the universe,
hearing those words
whispering to my inner self.
Bright
so bright that I need space
to draw you close —
bathing in your warmth,
surrounded
by the golden cocoon
of your morning smile:
watching you silvering the edge
of the whole world;
feeling your way around every
gossamer-hung dream.
© 1978 : Colin Gordon-Farleigh
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