Do you recall the silver street
The moon had painted on the lake?
At last the contact was complete
And mutual signals no mistake.
Do you regret the hurried start
As time accelerated by?
Poorly prepared, the flurried heart
Confuses ‘how’ with ‘when’ and ‘why’.
What language is sufficient for
The first approach of tenderness?
Between the ‘like’ and ‘je t’adore’
Words hover like a brief caress.
What sorcery has been at play
To cast all cautious care adrift?
No magic but the nerve to stay,
To take and tender such a gift.
What future for this orphan heart?
And can it stay still far away?
But what could force it to depart,
When I have watched your eyes all day?
How do you write love poetry when you have been married for 40 years? How do novelists imagine love stories? The key word is of course 'imagine'. I wrote half the last stanza of this when I was 21 and away at medical school. The image of the moon shining on a lake came much later. the rest of the poem is a distillation of what it feels like to make the transition from attraction to commitment.
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