Guest guest Posted May 20, 2009 Report Share Posted May 20, 2009 When the banishing archangel comes with his flaming sword in mid-september, where will I take you in this star-set tent that is our land? Stand by me at the window, darling... and look down on the lesser Edens. See how the cloud induced twilight deepens the colors of the city- stresing the blue of the awnings, animating the green shutters, roof gardens, purpling the skyscraper's gray, like distant hills. Now rain comes, how beautiful is rain to the sheltered! The air shall be bright cellophane, it shall be as the grass green air of the forest. The washed red brick, the verdigris of the watertower roofs. Your hand finds mine... I turn- Ah, you are the harbor of my voyage, the shore and the garden, you are the sky of my stars and the sleep of my dreaming. I shall measure off all that my arms encompass of you and it shall be my home. Your mouth shall be my meat and drink. Your arms my white bed. Walter Benton from: "Never a Greater Need" copyright 1948 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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