(7) Meeting II <br /> <br />I think of her and enter a forest <br />Richly gardened by a florist, <br />Tall standing trees that gently shade <br />Their columns in a pillared glade. <br /> <br />I walk beneath their canopy <br />And stoop to pick the peony, <br />The begonia and the wild anemone <br />Lead me to our tranquil home. <br /> <br />She wore a floral garden dress, <br />A hand-embroidered flowered vest, <br />She herself, an uncut flower, <br />Fragile in her beauty's power. <br /> <br />I knelt before her at first meeting, <br />She raised me up in gentle greeting.<br /><br />David McLansky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-white-ship-7/
