by Luis G. Dato
I walk behind you in the cobbled street,
The pungent odor of your scented hair
With orange blossoms mingle in the air,
Rare, rich admixture and solution sweet.
Did I say walk? O no! for not with feet
I move, but soar on fancy’s pinions fair
And scale ecstatic heights, a moment rare
When sorrows fade my gladness to complete.
Deeply I breathe the air that has caressed
Your face and form, and then to me it seems
That I have reached the end of all my quest.
My Golden Fleece, the nimbus of my dreams.
I tread as one whose life at last is blest,
As now your smile irradiant on me beams.