|
The Falling Light of Westminster |
||||
|
||||
| Under
the greying skies of Westminster my love and I first met; Under the falling light of Westminster my love and I first kissed. So through the evening, through the violet air, late we returned, walking alone through Kensington Gardens along Bayswater Way; the night air was alive— O beloved—the last light woven through the wandering tresses of your raven hair; O beloved—the last light bathing the bare skin of your braceleted arm; gave back an image of such sweetness composed as only wet rose petals glistening in the moon's soft shadows would know;—the air was alive. O through the violet sky, through the evening air alive, I have gathered the delicate image of your beauty, not transient, but remaining for all my days, in the quiet core of my being. Under the falling light of Westminster my love and I first kissed. |
||||
