THE DUST ‘NEATH THY SOLES
Firm steps to the top of the hill –you give.
Ev’rything melts in presence of thee
‘Cos thy beauty has the strength
To defeat it all.
And, what’s thy beauty? –I ask.
It is mo’e than a physical charm,
More than what diamonds can shine
-that’s for sure.
The meaning of thy beauty
Is a deep exotic mystery to me
‘Cos it is far beyond my limitations,
Far beyond my imagination,
But if I have to explain thy beauty
To thee or someone else,
‘See the ocean at dusk,
See the ocean at down,
As much in spring
As in winter;
On ev’ry wave concentrate,
On ev’ry move
It makes, and, then, smelling deep,
Thy eyes close,
And what thy mind caught
That’s thy beauty,
-But it’s obviously mo’e!
Anyway, here thou are
Before my eyes
Standing on thy bare feet
As a triumphant gladiator,
Proud of the dust ‘neath thy soles
Of the wind that kisses thy brow
With its wild love and tenderness,
My Queen, my atmosphere,
‘Cos the dust ‘neath thy soles
Is of conquered grounds,
Conquered by the greatness of thee,
Conquered grounds in the depths
Of my heart.