Cross Roads

INTANGIBLE

     Dear, you are like the summer dusk to me,
     The summer dusk when all the world seems still;
     When purple shadows creep along the hill,
     And birds are softly crooning in each tree.
     You are the gentle-cool-eyed mystery
     Of twilight hours.  Sometime I think you will
     Melt from me out into the dark, until
     You turn to star-shine, silvering the sea.

     Dear, even when your head is on my breast,
     You seem no nearer than a moonbeam thrown
     Across my heart.  Your fingers have caressed
     My hair so lightly that I scarce have known
     Their pressure.  You are like that time when rest
     Steals up so softly that one feels alone!