In The Countryside

Finding shelter under a fir tree,
blue umbrellas over our heads,
black clouds bursting like bubbles,
warm rain dumping down in pails.
There we spread our blanket
on the green, matted grass,
our clothes soaked completely,
all alone in the country,
the spring wind blowing wildly,
kissing each other madly.

In a little cedar cottage
at the bottom of two high hills
where the clouds in the sky
were always black or gray,
when the thunder rumbled
like drums before a war,
and the rain poured down
like a mighty hurricane,
forcing us both to stay inside,
warming up by the fireplace,
making love beside the flames.

These hands I will honour.
These hands I will hold.
These hands I will kiss
for all their goodness.
And every time you go away,
taking a little holiday,
these hands do I miss
for all the times they
make me feel such bliss.

My love, I long to sail away with you
on a ship resurrected from the sea,
transported forward in time
from the seventeenth century.
With a west wind filling our sails, we will
smell the salt water sloshing the stern,
hear the dark thunder cracking the clouds,
see the lightning striking the sky,
and then at midnight you and I
will make love in room below the deck,
concealed under the captain’s quarters,
furnished with a four-poster brass bed,
and lit only by oil lanterns.
We will travel to the edge of the horizon,
fall off even the edge of the Earth,
and float away to a distant paradise,
to an island like Atlantis that exists.

I am afraid, my young wife,
this mid-summer night might
be our last together,
that I will fall upon the field,
never to rise with you
another new morning,
but if that be my fate,
let’s make our one evening memorable,
may our making love be wonderful,
may we know each other
in ways we thought not possible,
for I know I might not ever
see your face again.

Last night me and my lover
shared a red umbrella
as we walked together
down the Yonge Street sidewalk,
enamoured with each other,
our eyes often glancing
into each other’s gaze.
She held my torso,
and I held her waist
as we wandered together
in search of a place
to have a hot Java,
and watch the cold rain
slide down a glass pane,
our hearts both stained
with love.

Her feet step softly upon the grass.
In the city there is no fairer lass.
Her long black hair is blown by the wind.
To deny her beauty would be a sin.
She smiles sweetly at the sky.
The blue birds sing as she walks by.
The hardened path is healed by her feet.
A little cloud hovers above her,
and covers her in the summer heat.

When the fog rolls in
like a heavy quilt,
put on your gray cloak,
and wait by the moat.
I’ll take you to a boat
I’ve hidden by the river.
The Prince has promised me
none of the sentries
stationed on the shore
will see us depart.
We’ll reside in the country,
be married secretly,
and live for a time
in peace and safety.

I remember riding the subway
on our honeymoon in May,
the crowded car packed full
with lonely-faced people,
but great gladness did I feel
when I walked out the door
holding your hand in mine,
hurrying by the cello players,
hearing their heavenly songs,
together stepping up the stairs
to a bright sunlit street,
to the place where I knew there
was no one anywhere
I would rather be with.
In that crowd we kissed.
My heart burst with bliss.

I have seen the tiredness in your eyes,
so this, my dear, is what I propose.
Let's drive away from this city
of concrete and smog, and go
to a place I know in the country.
My brother bought a cottage there.
I have the keys for as long as I like.
We can spend Saturday afternoon
walking in fields of tall timothy grass,
forgetting the pain of our past.
If the Sun shines hotly upon us,
we’ll enjoy a picnic by a gushing stream,
and behave like the birds and the bees.
I know your heart will be refreshed,
and I think it will restore your mind
and mine to be outside for a time
in the fresh and unpolluted air
so that we may forget all our cares.

Do you remember the day
we stood hand in hand
on the cold wet sands
of the Oregon coast?
I watched the invisible wind
rushing through your tresses,
and heard the ocean crashing
white and wonderful
like classical music.
My dear, if we both had wings
to fly beyond the horizon,
would your heart be open
to the journey there with me?
How long must I be lonely,
waiting patiently
for you to come back to me?

When my airplane lands in two
weeks time, can I run to you,
and you run to me through
a crowded airport terminal,
and lock our bodies together
in a whirling, spinning embrace?
Can we hold each other tightly,
touching faces softly,
inhaling passionate fragrances,
forgiving and forgetting
each other’s done wrongs
in a moment of renewed love?

I saw two lovers across a green field,
embracing beneath a dying tree,
the gentleman looking upon his love,
to him more beautiful than a dove.
He listened carefully to her speech,
then placed his hands upon her cheeks,
and although I know not what was said,
he kissed her soft and tenderly.

I fell in love with a faerie.
Her flaxen hair was pretty.
She told me she was a lady,
kissed me, and I felt merry.
I thought she truly loved me, so
I chased her across the Prairie.
But I wasn’t thinking clearly, no.
When her wings stopped beating,
she vanished, and left me shivering
in the freezing wind and falling snow,
and I did not know the way to go
home, and to this day I still roam,
wandering alone, looking for my love.

We went for the weekend
to the Washington coast,
trying to make the most
of the time that remained.
All along Long Beach we walked
barefoot in the spring rain,
and sat on the ship docks
until we both felt the same.
In the early morning light,
with the Sun in her eyes,
we had to say good-bye.
Never in my life had I felt so alive,
so I asked her to be my bride,
and still I await her reply.

Her beauty delights me.
She dazzles my mind,
her long black hair hanging
halfway down her bare back,
swimming more wonderfully
than dolphins rising high
above white-capped waves.
I am a merman searching
for a mate; she is the one
I’ve been looking for,
the mermaid I wish to marry.
If she loves me at first sight,
together we will live happily,
swimming under the sea
for many a century.

Take my hand and hold it tight.
Skate with me around this ice.
With the wind and snow upon our face,
escape with me to another place.
Believe that we might fly away
if we twirl together while embraced,
and elevate to a higher state.

I danced with a lady of beauty,
majesty, and mystery,
to the mirthful music played
by the King's drunken fiddlers.
I was mystified by her long
wavy hair shaking in the air,
and enchanted even more
by the sound of her feet
tapping the marble floor.
When the night of my life
finally came to an end,
I watched her ride away in the early
morning light to a land beyond my sight,
and no matter how far and wide
I search for her, I don’t know where
to find her.

My love, let’s take a taxi
to the London Playhouse,
sit in the upper galley,
watch a romantic comedy,
and when the lights dim down
we’ll do more than hold hands.
I promise you plenty of kisses,
occasional glances,
and yes, plenty of whispers
throughout the performance.

Like sweet cherry pie,
she kisses my lips,
like flower petals
floating in the wind,
she touches me softly,
like white water rushing
over Niagra Falls,
she holds me tightly,
and suddenly, like
a white swan swimming
across a still pond,
she listens to me silently,
talking to me intimately
as only a Princess
would to her true love.

She walks slowly and softly,
like feathers falling down
the long, steep stone steps, wearing
nothing but a bright, white night-gown,
reflecting the light of brilliant day.
Her lovely hips do gently sway,
and my eyes cannot look away.
She looks at me tenderly,
seeing far into my deepest,
my most painful places,
and without speaking a single word,
I see in her smile her love for me,
and in my heart I am free,
for forever I shall be
with my immortal lady
in this castle by the sea.

My dear, forget how poor I am,
and who you must appear to be.
Tomorrow let’s run far away from
that stuffy gathering of nobility,
and go where we can be alone
by a lazy, gurgling stream.
We’ll stay in the forest all day,
inhale the rich oxygen
from evergreen trees,
and I promise I’ll bring you back
to the court of the King before Sunset
when everyone important must leave.
I soon must return to the sea,
but I will come back for you
if you tell me that you love me.

When the Sunlight began to fade,
I hurried from my father’s house,
and waited in the cool shade
beneath a row of maple trees.
The moment the Sun melted
into an orange horizon,
my love met me in the misty light
for the third consecutive night.
Hand in hand we ran
along a long pebbled path
to her tall tower of stone,
and I stayed there until midnight,
planning our future flight.
She is banished by her father,
a wealthy landowner,
for wanting to marry
a lowly commoner like me.

My dear, we must not lose hope,
for if hope is lost, then I fear
we too will be lost forever.
If your father forbids you to see me publicly,
then let us meet under moonlight
at the windmill upon the mountain
where the wood owls make their Gothic music.
We will meet in secret, embrace each other,
and at least have a few hours each night
before the early dawn light.
I hope if we wait a few weeks longer,
his mind might be persuaded to receive
a poor man like me into your genteel family.
But if he will not, how can we sacrifice our love
to the will of such a hard-hearted man?
I know I cannot, and I hope you cannot,
for if you leave me I shall never recover.

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