This is the literary weblog of Jeffrey W. Hull, M.D., a pediatrician. It is intended mainly as a place to maintain a collection of poetry created for the enjoyment of a few friends and as an archive for my family. All material is protected by US copyright.

Jeffrey Hull

Friday, December 23, 2005

Homeward

Let's go sailing, truest love,
   And sail the bluest sea;
   Wind will be my love for thee
   And wave, your love for me.

Let's go soaring, truest love,
   Where sultry breezes blow,
   Sailing over clouds below
   To lands just lovers know.

Let's go dancing, truest love,
   To music heard afar,
   Twirling o'er the swell and star
   With heaven's door ajar.

And homeward then, my truest love,
   To dream by lovers' light;
   Weave me in your heart tonight–
   Thou art my soul's delight.


© 2005 Jeffrey Hull

2 Comments:

Oh, let the winds blow! Oh, let the winds blow! I can almost hear you breathing the life and motion into this very lovely image Jeff. Very Nice!

How romantic! and...spiritual.
Very nice, Pops.

"Where sultry breezes blow,
Sailing over clouds below
To lands just lovers know."

imparts that touch of earthy eroticism needed to ground (I know, I know, puns like mushrooms after spring rain) it in creaking bedcoil springs and the kind of love between a man and a woman that endures decades of bad morning breath.

Personally, I think this is as Xmas as a poem can get.

Xtians, especially Catholics, with their Immaculate Conception, but also salt rock Baptists, tend to place the baby Jesus' mysterious divine origins over the more mundane but most necessary fact of the love between His earthly parents.

I played a Xams CD yesterday called 'Crooner's Xmas': Frank, Dean, Bing, et cetera. I was very surprized to hear plaintive accoustic folk guitar followed by these words:

"If I were a carpenter
and you were a lady,
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?"

(with this exquisite bridge)

"Save my love through loneliness,
Save my love for sorrow,
I'm given you my only-ness,
Come give your tomorrow."

but then, after a moment's reflection, realized that something like this was really the first noel.

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