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To a great lady
I yearn to show you, praise you, to the world -
-and straightway hear you: 'Inappropriate...';
said with firm authority, and yet
said kindly, smiling, thoughtful; as if part
of some continued talk about the truth;
and as I, listening, look at you, I catch
in that sharp-seeing eye, the spark of joy;
and at the corners of your mouth, the twitch
of heavenly laughter at the comedy -
the serious humour - of our earthly wealth;
Shakespeare knew your sort: a golden girl
who brings to men and women their true self.
The more we loved the beauty of your mind,
the more that presence ever now we find
poem
by
Michael Shepherd
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