a little poetry from a novel character . . .

And silver flows like honey, liquid in my dreams,
and gold is washed upon the shore, and dissipates it seems
until reflections in your eye, recast that muted light
of all the treasures of the earth, of all the starry night.
And all the sunbeams sending down their diamond studded swords
and all the poets' pens abound with fluent wishful words
and all the ocean waters and all the mountains high
do not contain the love that shines within your lambent eye.
from Acts of Empathy

© RC Westerholm