Love Poem:  To Earthward
Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air 
That crossed me from sweet things,  The flow of – was it musk From hidden grapevine springs Down hill at dusk? 
I had the swirl and ache From sprays of honeysuckle That when they’re gathered shake Dew on the knuckle. 
I craved strong sweets, but those  Seemed strong when I was young; The petal of the rose It was that stung. 
Now no joy but lacks salt That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain 
Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove. 
When stiff and sore and scarred I take away my hand  From leaning on it hard In grass and sand, 
The hurt is not enough: I long for weight and strength To feel the earth as rough To all my length. – Robert Frost  |