through the misty haze appears a form
none of which I have seen before
so elegant the lines flow, top to bottom
my thoughts are standing-room-only
as they crowd my mind with questions
anticipating the who or what before me
silently the shape takes form, reveals itself
my lovely bride,in all your soaring elegance
are no match for the sirens of the seas
for they are but a myth, and you are here with me
take my hand, lay with me, let us begin this journey