Even if there were no sun,
no moon in the night-time sky
the shine of these two
by any measure is
not surpassed by the light in each
of your eyes.

Even if I did not love you
Love itself would gladly take my place,
its enchantment a testament
to the lily-fire which resides there
beneath that peaches and cream skin,
that furnace mouth,
that wild hair
which flies on its own
independent
of summer breezes,
as ocean breakers
throw themselves upon the beach
for you,
where your shoeless tracks
in the sand
exist as tiny monuments
of your having passed there.

The starfish smile in the shallows,
the clams bubble
the crayfish line up silently;

the summer sun comes down to crest-height
to gaze upon you,

the gulls caw! and caw!
footmen

sounding the call
you'd come for another days walk

on the beach.

I watch from afar
as wavy foam
from the breaker surge
spews high into the air
obscuring your gauzy shape
as it slowly shimmers and disappears
behind sand dunes of smoky orange.

It is enough to worship here each day
as you go by
no need for consummation
or hesitant introductions.

I am content with Love's Worship
because its perfections perfectly match
your appariation there--
glidlng from unknown origins-
a breath-taking passage,
into spiraling sea- foam
leaving behind  tiny shoeless tracks
soon rushed upon
by an adoring, loving sea.