Dialogue. Poem by peter adeleke

PETER: My maiden, with thy cornflower-blue gown,

Rise, when lifting yellow-fogs; filtering down,
Upon great elms in a small patch of wood;

Carv'd in jasmine filigree, where birds brood.


PEACE: I'd rise, like a budding plants on dewy ground,

And like wild 'range flames, clip-clipping o'er mound,

Star-like knotted flowers of fragrant scent;

Under the moon's bright-white waxing crescent.



PETER: When garlands are streaming down the knoll's
crest,
And the sun leaves the day in dusk to rest;

Be with me, in early signs of the spring,

With thy royal heart, filled with balmy zing.


PEACE: Upon the stepping-stones, with me, O dance
,
With thy short-quick steps, soothing countenance;

And to the green-coated virgin festoon,

'neath the ash-stars, the children of the moon.



PETER: Let our love be seen, like a round-rainbow,

Over the shapeless mountains; high and low,

Let our echoes, shred a seasoned timber,

As we sing sweet songs hither and thiter.



PEACE: And I would hold thy wide-embracing hand,

So soften, pleasand like a grain of sand;

Feel my red-lips, embrace my lofty frame,

Cleanse the sloth on my brow, and praise my name. THE END.