... is a poet who I read when I was a teenager, and I adored her ... But I haven't come across her again until today, when I found "Rapture" in a tiny bookshop at South Kensington. It was captivating, mostly in its simplicity and heart-aching beauty ...
World
"On the other side of the world,
you pass the moon to me,
like a loving cup,
or a quaich,
I roll you the sun.
I go to bed,
as you are getting up
on the other side of the world.
You have scattered the stars
towards me here, like seeds
in the earth.
All through the night,
I have sent you
bunches, bouquets of cloud
to the other side of the world;
so my love will be shade
where you are,
and yours,
as I turn in my sleep,
the bud of a star."
Give
"Give me, you said, on our very first night,
the forest. I rose from the bed and went out,
and when I returned, you listened, enthralled,
to the shadowy story I told.
Give me the river,
you asked the next night, then I'll love you forever.
I slipped from your arms and was gone,
and when I came back, you listened, at dawn,
to the glittering story I told.
Give me, you said, the gold
from the sun. A third time, I got up and dressed,
and when I came home, you sprawled on my breast
for the dazzling story I told.
Give me
the hedgerows, give me the fields.
I slid from the warmth of our sheets,
and when I returned, to kiss you from sleep,
you stirred at the story I told.
Give me the silvery cold
of the moon. I pulled on my boots and coat,
but when I came back, moonlight on your throat
outshone the pale story I told.
Give me, you howled,
on our sixth night together, the wind in the trees.
You turned to the wall as I left,
and when I came home, I saw you were deaf
to the blustering story I told.
Give me the sky, all the space
it can hold. I left you, the last night we loved,
and when I returned, you were gone with the gold,
and the silver, the river, the forest, the fields,
and this is the story I've told."
