A Young Ballade, and Naive
Another I must have written long ago for one of my then-long-distance boyfriend's birthdays and didn't keep myself for Closet Reasons, now recovered from husband's backups.
Not sure if there's a way to make this just display without having it be "Chapter One."
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The garden is in heavy bloom.
Beneath serene cerulean sky
The flowers leave not even room
For hurried ants to scurry by.
And even when they richly die
Slow fruit shall swell where once they grew,
Delightful both to taste and eye:
But I would rather be with you.
The library is full of worlds
Of fortitude that does not fail,
Of capitals in lumined curls,
Of bravery that does not quail,
Of underdogs under the hail
Of hell and earth and heaven too
Who stand and in the end prevail:
But I would rather be with you.
The freezer is with ice cream filled.
The highway is with promise packed.
The sea is soft and mirror-still.
The sky above with light is cracked.
The thunderstorms are coming back.
The internet is fun to do.
I hear the howling of my pack:
But I would rather be with you.
My prince, or chief, or what you will,
My brother and my lover too,
The world is undiscovered still
But I would rather be with you.