Too Frail a Lute
By Eva Willes Wangsgaard
If I could have you in my arms again,
I’d have no need of sun or moon or stars.
Such common lights are meant for lesser men,
And you and I would walk the luminous bars
Of everlasting morning. Should I wake
To feel again your shoulder firm and strong
Against my cheek, my heart would all but break –
Too frail a lute to bear so grand a song
If I could feel your kiss upon my throat
Or catch familiar love themes in my ear,
Bluebirds would sing and apple blossoms float
Above a hedge of roses all the year;
And grief would be a dull, discarded feather
Lying unruffled in the summer weather.