Tuesday, March 27, 2012


What is this upon my hand that I bear

So tenderly, with such loving care? Is

It not a mere piece of gold, was melded

And tended by the fold of smithies that do

Forge such stuff, and then formed into a ring?

Yes I would say to you, yes, it is: and

No. No, it is far more than a mere ring.

For by such a ring what am I to make

Of who I am or what I stand for? Oh,

What shall I say that will not partake in

Some weighty discussion! which I do not

Like in the least, for philosophers do

Tend to draw the thing out without making

The true points come alive! And if I am

To suggest, and I do confess myself

Prone to do so when time allows, that my

Ring represents all that I am and will

Be, then I should stamp upon my head some

Token of my beliefs as well: for such

Is the extreme notion that my ring does

Represent to those that fail to see.

Still you are here, and willing to sit and

So listen, to hear of my tale. Yes.

Since I see you are truly keen to know

Of the hidden meaning behind the thing

I shall tell you, of the day my wife gave

Me this golden ring. A day not unlike this,

Clouds did roll across the abyss of the

Sky; yet as high as they were they could not

Blot out the sun that shone upon my face,

Nor could they a single moment replace

The thoughts that I bore at that time. I was

Standing here, not far from where you are now,

And as I turned my head the better to

See the reason behind the noise I then

Heard, my jaw dropped two feet. I saw glory

Parading before me, unraveled light,

For sure that was what they had seen a short

Moment ago that had caused men to go

Limp in the face, for women to sigh; such

A presence did I see before me, as

I have never felt unto this day since

She passed. Yet regardless of this, at long

Last the one being truly made for me was

Before my eyes, and would not leave me. Her

Hair tied back in strings of Lilly White,

Her eyes the color of mud; ha! you thought

That I was to say stars, or sapphires,

Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, heaven no!

No, she had the most warlike of natures;

Such colors would not have suited her, no,

They would not have matched her spirit of clay,

That spirit that she had in abundance,

That stuck onto me like an adhesive,

Changed my very essence and hers too,

Molded us until we resembled some

Thing newly made from God's imaginings.

So much so had she conquered me through those

Brown eyes. Ah, they were not as some men would

Say mere duds that disqualified her; for

What is a woman that you should judge her

Alone by the skin and bone that she bears?

By her bare skin alone she is fair, so

Very very fair to behold, I admit!

But by that alone love would be called lust!

Though such desire ought to be present

You cannot survive on it alone; fire

Goes out without sustenance to grow on.

But to press on, I shall say so much more.

I have already spoken of her core,

Warlike Athena she was to me, yet

Tender face that became no other soul

So well as she did at that hour. Now,

For her body, it was made of bronze, her

Skin made fair by the color of the moon;

For she was not as I am, peach skin, no!

No, nature had procured for me a love

So heavenly that her legs, her arms, her

hands, her firm belly, and most lovely chest,

Were all the color of dirt painted red

By sunset: though that might seem strange to some,

It was for me like finding the perfect

Wine. Yes. So! So, grand she appeared to me

That for a moment that seemed to stretch

On an eternity was I caught up.

Yet strangely, and I scarce remember how,

The sight of my love shifted, appeared to

Have moved without moving. Now next to me.

I remember, she told me, that I was

Embarrassing her by my gaping mouth.

I had after all never seen, before

This moment, how deep was the well that

I would soon join.  But, I told her that she

Need only take my hand and I would so

Remedy that fear inside her heart. I

Thought she'd mock my love for sure. Ah but then!

Can you believe it? her hand took mine, and

That terrible beauty of which I spoke

Became mingled with the fluttering wind;

Like an parched bird caught up in song;

Though he be lacking water he must sing

Out the expression of what he sees, yes,

Exactly so! So she was to me, and, 

Despite her distress she smiled. Not

That smile that most brides have, no, no! Oh

No! She smiled through her eyes: her lips were

still, slightly parted, to express the same

Feeling I had felt moments before. Such

A feeling! as though I had won over

Her very soul, as she had mine. Then, well,

We were, if you can believe, interrupted;

By the priest. Sometimes I think him to be

Jealous of what we had, is that so bad?

Now, to explain the parts that came after;

Yet shall I compare such parts with you who

Have not experienced them? Cannot? For

How can I, who have seen the light break through

The veil of mine own inferior

Intellect so as to make clear what was

Occurring that instant of eternal

Life, speak my piece of mind? No, how can I

To the one who has not? Unless I have

Some power to sway another's mind, so

As to crack the vault of his heart and so

Reveal to him the hidden power

Of such a wondrous union by force! No,

For even had I the power to give

You the essence of that moment, I'd not

For all the world ruin it for you. Such

Is the power of what I have bought through

The commitment I made that day. Now

Gone; lost to the wind, dust in the ground, mud....

I do not mean to keep you in the dark

But if you think that you can understand

Then say so, do with your speech of me bid

That moment of bliss for which I have no words!

And in a many paged book I will write

Out for you the feeling then impressed on

My soul.

Though I warn you, it will take a full

Eternity of your time. So will my ring

Then be explained, your curiosity

Then sated. But if you will take an old

Mans advice, find a girl yourself. Do then

Take her through the very steps I have made.

Then what would take years to understand in

A book, shall be instantly understood.

When she gives you a single look.

No comments:

Post a Comment