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Love and Poetry: A Daydream
… quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante …
in a throbbing pale blue mist which wax
he follows her wavings and reads aloud
of a Nymph, Queen of the Western Island
which weaves and cut the thread
and all along she strokes like wind on grassy mounds
and rides wave upon wave of words made flesh
and quickens in wet sweet panting her swinging
and all the while he sways with her and reads aloud
of the shape-changing Queen and priestess on her chariot
like the vengeful witch which murdered her sons
until words and cries are hushed
with a clear spring of delight
in a throbbing deep blue mist which wane
and dreamscapes melt and time itself stands still