Adoration by M. Everett Hinckley © 2006
My Lady, My Goddess, My Sweet,
The sea is mercilessly calling our names,
To recognition of our lost passions,
To fan then peacefully dowse ancient flames ...
My Lady,
From you, wafts the perfumed scent of brine,
Sophistication, wisdom, romance,
I eagerly draw the slow blade,
For first blood from our first dance,
Your fixed eyes are beguiling,
You whisper to me, "I'm not ready",
But entranced, your spell is cast,
On your heart, my hand is steady,
Something old, something new ...
I adore you.
My Goddess,
From you, I feel the pounding of waves,
Mother Ocean is seductively calling me near,
I subtly ease in the slow blade on soft, quiet nights,
Anticipation gives way to a delicious fear,
Your siren voice captivates,
You whisper, "Bind your feet and swim to me",
Water laps, suggesting drowning or swimming?
We give ourselves to the sea,
Deep, enchanting, cold blue ...
I adore you.
My Sweet,
From you, I see a beautiful child,
Smiling from beneath the water,
The slow blade slides in graceful dampness,
Like at a Halal slaughter,
Your lip bitten in delight is contagious,
You whisper to me, "Do we have to go?",
Ringed by flame, south, west, north, east,
Waiting for the divining sign to show,
Our passions ensue ...
I adore you.
...I know and have known you,
Enveloped by water, wave, and brine,
The slow blade is in deep now, to the hilt,
But not in your chest, in mine.
