ENGB10:IntroductiontoShakespeare
Still
Jewels of sweet dew collect in the palms of leaves,
The sun peers above the tired horizon of a tumbling hill,
Stars blink their eyes shut and the moon grieves,
I tell him I love him still.
Warm wind whistles through tall reeds to tickle my bare feet,
The midday sun offers its love to the fire orchid curling on a windowsill,
I run my fingers along the keys of a piano, catching rhythm of my own heart beat,
And I tell him I love him still.
Night approaches and behind rooftop peaks the sanguine sun waves goodbye
The rumble of his voice whispers against my ear, his touch is soft as goose-feather quill,
Unstained velvet sheets slip against skin; our bodies entwine with a shuddering sigh,
Once more, I tell him I love him still.
But as I hear his heavy-breathing sleep, with empty eyes I lie awake,
Because it is you, not him, for which my consumed heart aches.
Jewels of sweet dew collect in the palms of leaves,
The sun peers above the tired horizon of a tumbling hill,
Stars blink their eyes shut and the moon grieves,
I tell him I love him still.
Warm wind whistles through tall reeds to tickle my bare feet,
The midday sun offers its love to the fire orchid curling on a windowsill,
I run my fingers along the keys of a piano, catching rhythm of my own heart beat,
And I tell him I love him still.
Night approaches and behind rooftop peaks the sanguine sun waves goodbye
The rumble of his voice whispers against my ear, his touch is soft as goose-feather quill,
Unstained velvet sheets slip against skin; our bodies entwine with a shuddering sigh,
Once more, I tell him I love him still.
But as I hear his heavy-breathing sleep, with empty eyes I lie awake,
Because it is you, not him, for which my consumed heart aches.