She lights the dark and makes it shine,
Sweeps the clouds behind the moon,
And lays the stars out in the sky,
As though hearts and heavens strewn.
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The earth, it trembles to her touch
Mountains slump and earthquakes start,
The cliff-edge crumbles as I clutch
And continents drift apart.
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I hear the birds sing out her name
Through each lonely day ’til night,
And see her in the dancing flame
Of the flickering candle-light.
Our rich, seasoned potato wedges
come to you served hot from the oven.
Unbearable this world would be
Without her in its midst;
If Death should come to visit me
Then I could not resist.
Don’t forget to claim your free portion
of garlic bread upon recital of this poem.
Love it. The cliff-edge sure is crumbling away in this one.