Communion

If you should come and lie with me
and kiss my eyes and stroke my hair
and rest your hand against my cheek
and let me feel its warmth and strength
and hold it still as I then turn my face and kiss your palm,
If you should do these things and look into my eyes
and whisper words so sweet into my listening ear
and promise me the moon and sun and stars and all the oceans' bounty,
and feed me apples, sliced and moist and honeyed drinks to slake my thirst,
If you should bring to me a crown or precious stones or heavy gold
or keys to vast and hallowed halls or lands uncounted,
fields of grain or music written by your hand,
I could not care for you more then than I do at this moment,
for all you are to me is more than words
or sights or kisses soft and sweet
or sun or moon or sandy shore
and more of life than food or drink or promises of wealth or jewelled treasures rare.

So, bring me curious shells and pebbles smooth
and robins' eggs and yellow flowers
hold me close and lie with me
and kiss my eyes and stroke my hair and rest your hand against my cheek
and dance a little dance,
For after all, that's all I'll ever need.  
R.J.Y. 3-2-2012