Joy V. Sheridan writes

Love by Proxy

He comes to me on the midnight hour

Filling the air with a rhapsody

Filling me with his strange desire –

A ship on an ocean of amorous fire

He hovers like a dragonfly

Upon a placid stretch

Relaying the passages

He hasn’t spoken yet

Like a creature of fable

A god of the skies

Higher than Icarus

His golden lullabies

Would lull me to slumber

As he touches my cheek,

Lays his head on my shoulder

So trusting, mild and meek

Then, with an ardour that evades all space

He is the metaphysical traveller

Searching for my face

On the outlines of flowers

In the bowers on high

He lifts me to his kingdom –

Cupid’s soft sigh,

Transports us airborne

On invisible, celestial wings

Floating high over places

Which make his heart sing

With the melodies of mountains,

The undulating plain –

A lover after midnight

Whom I wouldn’t dare name

High we fly over hill and crest

Purple lagoons – dreaming in tenderness;

He binds orchids in my hair

And covers me in balms,

Gentle as the zephyr

The rustling of palms –

We swoop and sway

Above a desert reach;

He shows me the arbours

Where Venus tends the peach

Roses tumble from his brilliant eyes –

Chimes in the skies

Ribbons waft like streamers of sun

Oh come tonight, my immortal one!

Down we swam like racers on the tides,

Down to woodlands

Where the milk white moon rides –

A silver chariot

In the azure of the deep,

Evergreens and glades

In the vale before sleep;

Bluebells peeped beneath a drift

Of languor’s kissing

His soft and tender lips

Maidens in villages by coral reef

Made garlands of amber

Threaded with fresh green leaf –

Made nectars of longings

Which they placed on the sands.

Knowing of his passage

Who could create desire

In any woman!

Fast we flew through morning skies

To palaces he gave me

With a caressing of his eye,

Pendants blowing on the breeze –

Unicorns grazing,

The drone of lazy bees –

Grapes clustered,

Bigger than my hand –

Flowers growing

Which grew not in mortal lands –

Perfumes issued with the turning of a leaf,

Sweet musics played for light relief

Halls were filled

With wondrous things

An infant shimmered

From a golden ring

An owl danced, and joyfully did sing,

A swan juggled with butterflies –

Such incredible things!

He comes to me on the midnight hour

This strange, beautiful god

With his heart of desire

And his ceaseless yearnings

And his misunderstood being –

Amour’s master, who moves faster

Than the arrow of a thought. 

Boat on Fire --  Mademoiselle Lombardi