THE FIRST POEM I WROTE FOR MY WIFE

What twilight there is
Is lost from her sight
As she tip-toes her way
Through the lonely midnight;
Her only companion is the voice of the creek,
Her foe's in the bushes,
Her courage grows weak.
She knows of the pathway
But not of its turns;
She's stroked by the hands
Of the branches and ferns
As the little trolls giggle
From deep in the brush,
The big trolls say,
"She'll find it, now hush."

The big trolls gathered the little ones 'round
And proceeded to tell them secrets they've found:
"No matter how gloomy the night is tonight,
Regardless of darkness, regardless of fright,
There's a feeling she has that rules o'er the rest.
The young man in the cottage will soon have a guest.
"They'll both be warm from midnight on,
The loneliness will all be gone.
Sweet little ones, please revere
The feeling that we witness here."

-1975-

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