WHEN she rises in the morning
I linger to watch
her;
She spreads
the bath-cloth underneath the window
And the sunbeams catch her
Glistening white on the
shoulders,
While
down her sides the mellow
Golden shadow glows as
She stoops to the sponge, and
her swung breasts
Sway like full-blown yellow
Gloire de Dijon roses.
She drips herself with water, and her
shoulders
Glisten
as silver, they crumple up
Like wet and falling roses, and I
listen
For the
sluicing of their rain-dishevelled petals.
In the window full of
sunlight
Concentrates her golden shadow
Fold on fold, until it glows as
Mellow as the glory
roses.
ICKING