To my Alice,

The first summer in June
flickered past us like a candle’s shaken flame.
The trees shimmered lightly,
the grass raised its blades,
the perfumed mist settled
when the moon shone.

Deep in the fields of tulips,
the sheath of night
lay His cloak upon
the garden’s breast.
I was there
I had wondered
in my lonesome,
is it not just me?
Who am I to be all this—
truly, madly
deeply searching?

I caught hold of something far off,
building upon my senses
until my self
felt it.
She was soft yet sharp,
marbled, yet refined
A tan-speckled face,
etched in dainty favors
To describe you as I saw,
Ah, it was you I saw,
a slender path taken
but boldly so.
You were as you walked,
and I longed unknowingly.

The illumination,
pure opulence
and oval-faced splendor
upon your cheeks.
You are like
the moon’s first peak,
the sunrise’s first kiss,
the lilies first bloom in the greenest garden.
And I wished I was there
when the world
bestowed you Her beauty.

- T