by Keith Trestrail |
All is bright, and I betwixt God and you,
the kookaburra is in the willow,
and honeyeaters in the honeydew
flitter as I lay your breast and pillow.
You are my Venus - my Evening Star -
sweet inveigler to the contentious heart.
Girl, all I need is to be where you are
and never know what woe it is to part.
So we are in our beguiling divined
by no greater ordinance or blessing,
but visceral love (like a woman's mind)
keep all mortal men eternal guessing.
Kid, you mean, and are everything to me,
and I do love the stars in Cotton Tree.