She came to him in dreams — her ears 
Diddering like antennae, and her eyes 
Wide as dark flowers where the dew 
Holds and dissolves a purple hoard of shadow. 
The thunder clouds crouched back, and the world opened 
Tiny and bright as celandine after rain. 
A gentle light was on her, so that he 
Who saw the talons in the vetch 
Remembering now how buttercup and daisy 
Would bounce like springs when a child's foot stepped off them. 
Oh, but never dared he touch — 
Her fur was still electric to the fingers. 

Yet of all the beasts blazoned in gilt and blood 
In the black-bound scriptures of his mind, 
Pentecostal dove and paschal lamb, 
Eagle, lion, serpent, she alone 
Lived also in the noon of ducks and sparrows; 
And the cleft-mouthed kiss which plugged the night with fever 
Was sweetened by a lunch of docks and lettuce.

Norman Nicholson 

(1914-1987)

 = Wayne Vargas