Bien-Aimé

Rose Bien

Bien-Aimé              

                                                                                                           

Cold the wind that blows this day

But warm in my heart’s thoughts of you

 

Ancient graves of lovers lost

Summon worship to your hand

 

The spiralling cosmos all around

Does decree a soulful kiss

 

For pretty is just moment’s passing

While reverence concludes a smile

 

Worthy of your sparkling alter

Divine in aspect, redeemed in gaze

 

So lovely is your mortal mantle

To muse this poet’s song of praise

 

 

© Mark Reino Peltonen

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