The flutter of gossamer wings
Reminds us of gentler things,
Reticent, whispering delight,
Accenting that exalted night
A candle's sensual glow came
Close and ignited ardor's flame
With perfection, rare to behold,
Sleeping beauty washed naked gold.
Like the moth seduced by its light
Pretends independence, not fright,
Yet, choices faced by creation
Stir; inexorable summation
Of destiny waits this embrace,
The transformation without trace...
A heart surrendered to desire
Is transmogrified by its fire.
Deliciously sweet translation,
Gloriously new sensation
This side the fire's transmuting touch,
No martyr's pyre, but love of such
Warmth, the pain in the transition,
Ignored. Hear passion's rendition,
Recital of love's highest role,
"Eternal, its home with the soul!"
--Don Juan de Feu
copyright 1998, The Goober Tree Press, all rights reserved