The Dust Beneath her Soles

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,

I’d say:

‘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

Thy lips

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.