Final Repose

Amongst the languor of the spring
Where wind-blessed birds mirthfully sing
Beside the gentle, curving steam
Sits I within a living dream.

There, immersed in laughter play
The creatures of the forest's fray
Cavorting in the fading day
Reluctant to be on their way.

I scarcely blame their attitude
The mundane world without seems crude
Whilst beauty lay before me nude
Leaving would be quickly rued.

Upon this great, enchanting glade
Across whose meadows wind doth wade
The flowers dance within the shade
Shed down by leaves of purest jade

If bliss be food for eye and ear
Then who would tempt starvation here
Where every moment begs a tear
With lavish feasts lain out just near.

I too, cannot quite leave this place
This realm of stolid, ancient grace
Where heaven doth unearth its face
From flowers made of scented lace.

The wind doth grant me with a kiss
It sends my worry all amiss
And whisper I to the water's gleam
"Keep me bound to this living dream."