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Portrait of the Artist as a Lone Tree


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The glittering prize

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I know that atoms sweetly sing
in microscopic key;
but would I search their secrets out,
or have you here with me?
Without concern, they prance in turn,
while learned brows look on -
I left their lore long years before,
because my love was gone.

I know the stars’ galactic dance
around each glittering core;
but if we filled the universe,
then could I love you more?
And if ten million suns should shine,
your beauty to adorn,
would I be any happier
than when our love was born?

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