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the fairest
I found sweet deeps to plunge you in
where oceans cease and vaults begin
the wakes there roil in brumes of mist
and cheeks of sky are blushing, kissed
the face oft’ graced with features, yours
thus featured with what each adores
soft bats each lash o’er polished stars
that melt midst moony eyes … like ours
for beauties borne as thine shine bright
ne’er chanced askance for fancied flight
and should some others draw those gifts
they’re tossed to where the flotsam drifts
lest drowning cold what absence pours
they’d take from light what light abhors
and float there buoyant twixt dark clouds
their vixened visage swirled with shrouds
still - most looking glasses feign that grace
should god-skilled sculptors give such face
for women’s charms are poised and crowned
to swoon their prince where hopes are bound …
with wonders soft …
and warm …
and round.
Copyright ©
Gregory Richard Barden
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