Dylan Thomas




On The Marriage Of A Virgin

Waking alone in a multitude of loves when morning's light   
Surprised in the opening of her nightlong eyes  
His golden yesterday asleep upon the iris  
And this day's sun leapt up the sky out of her thighs  
Was miraculous virginity old as loaves and fishes,  
Though the moment of a miracle is unending lightning  
And the shipyards of Galilee's footprints hide a navy of doves.  
 
No longer will the vibrations of the sun desire on  
Her deepsea pillow where once she married alone,  
Her heart all ears and eyes, lips catching the avalanche  
Of the golden ghost who ringed with his streams her mercury bone,   
Who under the lids of her windows hoisted his golden luggage,  
For a man sleeps where fire leapt down and she learns through 
        his arm   
That other sun, the jealous coursing of the unrivalled blood.