If to move you, soul must listen, my dear;
let me lie on the grass beside you . . .
I will press my ear to your chest
that I might hear the beating
of the heart I cherish.
Let me, precious one,
stay here with you,
gazing up
at the
stars.
They
sparkle
like sugar
crystals emptied
from night’s bowl of sky
to sweeten the darkness
as your eyes, reflecting them,
dulcify this quiet moment.
Oh, please don’t turn away. Let me stay
so I might stir your soul with silentness.
The copse of aspens quake.
Horses graze and cows laze
as languid summer splays
emeralds in its wake,
low fields to overtake
the prospect's cyan glaze.
Immutable the sun
in lambent saffron drape
above the lucid scape
contemplates the glisten,
auscultates the paean,
the whispering of crepe
as runes the leaves impart
to dulcify the heart.*
*Hexsonnetta is a form invented by Andrea Dietrich
1/7/18
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