Poem For a Girl (Who Is Also a Birch Tree),by Stanley Gemmell

Poem For a Girl (Who Is Also a Birch Tree)

Cross hatched with pollen
Arms sensually akimbo
Frost seeming and inviting
Dimensional arcing thoughts
Gravely beautiful and upright
Letting lovers peel your bark
And inscribe their names upon you
At night converse with the dark
Receiving news from wonder
So as to stay one step ahead   You once saw elemental war
Where contrary dominions
Sought your possession
O, most enigmatic glance
Shot from your shining,
Mineral brow
Girl whose scented and smooth
Long, soft neck sheltered armies
Souls tired with searching
At your waist offer
Cupt hands with tears
Full of lightning
And the collapse of thrones
And gatherings
Of the masses of men!
You are the reflection
Of our subtle study
Of existence.   Thorn seeming
Yet gentle
Girl all of sloping.   Birch tree
Snow reflecting
Whitely.   Thick and warm hips
To woman's waist
Proudly set.   You were adorned gaily
In diadems and jewels
Bedecked in glee.   There were feastdays
Long seeming
And full of miracles.   Men like moss
About your roots
Who curl and jut.   By stand again
Luminous rise
Full of wisdom.
Snow panther pads
About you first
To lay down by your trunk
And let the moonlight
Dapple his coat
Atop a gentle hill
Lone among trees
Always different
And magical
Full of chance
Full of equations
Girl near a river
Whose path
Freezes in winter
Allow yourself to melt
Cyclically   Snow panther pads
About your eaves
Lithely climbing
To enjoy your softness
And strong limbs
Moon skinned and
Beautifully frayed mind
Harried with magnificence
According to the blued evening
With constellations
Bright as small, white fires
About to hunt
Divinities congregate
At your grove
Enjoying view
Of sweeping wonder
To decide the fates
Of men they'd like to see
This one and that
Picked for heavenly
Concourse, O,
Marvellous duty!   Power condensing
Beneath you
Filling earth mound
Warm veined pulse   To dream again
An Atlantis
Of remembered ancestors
Tall and cruel omens
In your grace   To the night
Immortals
Are also passing things.   You have seen
The grieving trees
Catch on fire.
So now how best
To be always
Shining   Let the wood nymphs dance
And flicker between worlds   Let the armies of men
March grimly   Let the demigod of lust
Be released for one day   Let there be horn
And tusk
Wild frost boar at your breast
Snow elk loping at your belly   Moon bathed girl
Psionic and vigorous   Covered in faerie dust
Glowing amber
Let your beautiful cheekbones
Be kissed by lips of green flame   Let your body
Be the temple of a god.

poems.one - Stanley Gemmell

Stanley Gemmell