After Milton's 'On His Blindness'
When I consider how my light is spent
in various compositions, how the wide
berth of your hips possesses me, I hide
my face behind a cloud. The Sunlight bent
between the branches is an ever-present
reminder of your glory. On the sides
of the bayou I have sat, you are the guide
that leads me to paradise. I have sent
a song out of my mouth as if I need
to publish your beauty. The verse that best
may bear your power is unfound, your state
is queenly. I am the lover that speeds
to your majestic pastures, there to rest
and meditate while for your love I wait.
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