Joy

Oh my dear sweet lover!  All eye am I.
Your light fills me like fine sherry
that perfects the bold crystal of a glass.
Oh, I am drunk with you!  I see visions.
I hear voices.  I touch the body of true dream.
I sense the perfume of night’s bloom.
But my dear sweet love, I fear
we know not what the morrow brings,
save dawn that greets us with its ruddy joy,
save our waking with a kiss.

*     *    *

(c) Gregory V Driscoll  2012