Epithalamium.

“So you are married, girl. It makes me sad.
Somehow, to think of that: that you, once held
Between hot hands on slow white afternoons,
Whose eyes I knew down to the blackest depths
(Stirred by the small red smile and the white laugh)
Are married now. Some man whom I have not seen
Calls up the smile and the laugh, holds in his hands
The welcoming body, sees in the darkening eyes
Sufficient future in a smug white room.
I wish you well. May you have many sons
With darkening eyes and quiet gentle hands
To build a better future for their sons
I, wed to history, pray for your peace:
That the smile be never twisted in your mouth,
And the pond of your mind never be rippled with sorrow:
That you may sleep your sleep as the world quakes,
And never see the chasms at your feet.”

Roy McFadden, Flowers for a Lady, February 1942.

I was given this book of poems as a gift about 15 years ago, with this poem marked. I have just read it again. More than ever, I see the beauty of words. 

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Dawn JorgensenDawn Jorgensen
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The Incidental Tourist

The Incidental Tourist is a Personal Travel Blog of a conscious traveller with a deep love for Africa, its people and the environment.

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