September has come, it is *hers*, Whose vitality leaps in the autumn, Whose nature prefers Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place; So I give her this month and the next Though the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already So many of its days intolerable or perplexed But so many more so happy; Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls Dancing over and over with her shadow, Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls And all of London littered with remembered kisses. So I am glad That life contains her with her moods and moments More shifting and more transient than I had Yet thought of as being integral to beauty; Whose mind is like the wind on a sea of wheat, Whose eyes are candour, And assurance in her feet, Like a homing pigeon never by doubt diverted. To whom I send my thanks That the air has become shot silk, the streets are music, And that the ranks Of men are ranks of men, no more of cyphers. So that if now alone I must pursue this life, it will not be only A drag from numbered stone to numbered stone But a ladder of angels, river turning tidal. Off-hand, at times hysterical, abrupt, You are one I always shall remember, Whom cant can never corrupt Nor argument disinherit. Frivolous, always in a hurry, forgetting the address, Frowning too often, taking enormous notice Of hats and backchat -how could I assess The thing that makes you different? You whom I remember glad or tired, Smiling in drink or scintillating anger, Inopportunely desired On boats, on trains, on roads when walking. Sometimes untidy, often elegant, So easily hurt, so readily responsive, To whom a trifle could be an irritant Or could be balm and manna. Whose words would tumble over each other and pelt From pure excitement, Whose fingers curl and melt When you were friendly. I shall remember you in bed with bright Eyes or in a cafe stirring coffee Abstractedly and on your plate the white Smoking stub your lips had touched with crimson. And I shall remember how your words could hurt Because they were so honest And even your lies were able to assert Integrity of purpose. And it is on the strength of knowing you I reckon generous feeling more important Than the mere deliberating what to do When neither the pros nor cons affect the pulses. And though I have suffered from your special strength Who never flatter for points nor fake responses I should be proud if I could evolve at length An equal thrust and pattern.
Posted on: Sat, 31 Aug 2013 15:30:06 +0000
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