night meeting

to read this poem is to watch a film.

a rich, luxurious, romantic film.

the heart that beats fast

short hurried breaths

wide eyes

the deep grass of the fields

brushing against arms

and legs

the stone walled farmhouse

dark brown and muted grey

rises from the moorland

silence

broken only by the wind

and then

a gentle tapping at the window

the match scrape

the muted flicker

of a candle

through old rippled glass windows

i see and feel it all

here 'tis

~

meeting at night

i.

the grey sea and the long black land;

and the yellow half-moon large and low;

and the startled little waves that leap

in fiery ringlets from their sleep,

as i gain the cove with pushing prow,

and quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

ii.

then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;

three fields to cross till a farm appears;

a tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch

and blue spurt of a lighted match,

and a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,

than the two hearts beating each to each!

here’s the author robert browning

- a dapper dude -

someone who knew love.