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Between the orbs of day and night,
Between the sighs and muffled moans,
While my fingers caress your hair,
And all of life and death is there;
While passions fly with sweet delight
And all my thoughts are born by you
In places precious to our touch –
Demanding we are joined, my Dear –
Then am I swept to brilliant gold,
Where fields and trees have perfect hue,
And sky is coloured by your eyes:
Why even birds their wings unfold
And sing joyous about we two.
For every thing is perfect there
In a time to simply, just behold;
In that moment you and I create
Between the flesh and spirit state
Where comes the moment I beget
To bring that brief, divine escape,
Besought to never end…. And yet…




©  Allen Ansell 2023