Upon planting a sapling
I gentle and firm
Hold the trunk
At breast height
And tilting my head
Press my lips
Against the bark,
As holding the hand
Of a lovely woman
And tasting the heat
On her wrist.
On her wrist.
And young again,
Walk into the grove
Of memory and orchards
Of treasure trove
Where once did wander
Where once did wander
And once did rove.
Lying back a hundred years ago
On the floor of the valley -
The Valley of the Heart's Delight
And waiting for her
Under the late Spring Moon
And the musk of Santa Clara night,
Amongst endless miles of Almond trees
And blossoms carpeting velvet white,
Her dark hair flouncing
As we walked quickly
Along orchard path,
Into the quiet deepening dusk of sepia
Where time becomes immortal,
Long ago love is born eternal,
And the hush and whisper
Of her lyrical voice
Plays sweetly once again.
