Posting from Paradise
My dear friend, Clare, sent my honey and I a book of love poetry from New Zealand and, for many nights, I would read my honey, the chef of the house, a love poem as he cooked us wonderful creations. He reminded me last night that I hadn't read him a love poem in a long time. So, here is what I read to him tonight:The ConfirmationYes, yours, my love, is the right human face.I in my mind had waited for this long.Seeing the false and searching for the true,Then found you as a traveller finds a placeOf welcome suddenly among the wrongValleys and rocks and twisting roads. But you,What shall I call you? A fountain in a waste,A well of water in a country dry,Or anything that's honest and good, an eyeThat makes the whole world bright. Your open heart,Simple with giving, gives the primal deed,The first good world, the blossom, the blowing seed,The hearth, the steadfast land, the wandering sea,NOr beautiful or rare in every part,But like yourself, as they were meant to be.Edwin Muirand our dinner was the sweeter for me having read to him.