She’s a golden girl,

Summer wise

            And flower clever;

A month of mornings endless long.

What artful forms her whims devise–

Delight the mind and charm the eyes,

            While promising forever

In a soft and lulling siren’s song.

 

A golden girl.

Bright as moon

            her ivory laughter–

A gravity these tides obey.

All molecules, acute, attune

And move; and in curious circles are strewn,

            to echo ever after,

And vibrate in harmony, night and day.

 

She’s a golden girl,

Apple poor

            but orchard wealthy,

A bounty too abundant to appraise;

A harvest which offers far more

Than any splendor a diamond ever bore.

            Still, surely as stealthy

And sly as the wisdom of all Natures’s ways.

 

                                                                                                           

Summer 1991