Sylvia (The Thought Of You) Poem by Jerryman Appiahene Gyamfi

E'en the Angels of the Lord
Yes, the Angels of the Lord
faraway from our profane eyes
beyond these blue skies
sing with infectious glee
at the thought of thee.

My Dearest —
when the world frowns at me,
when the world gnaws on me,
my confidence trampled on,
and my best strives derision worn —
Angels whisper with sweet melody
the thought of thee
to this sorrow-buffeted soul
And all my weaknesses, in whole,
like the fleeing night
at the sight of the conquering light,
are nowhere to be found.

See! its heat my fireplace
in my bleakest daze;
Its enchanting harmony
the most gracious and divine
of all charming symphonies.
Radiant as the blue Hydrangea,
Flamboyant as the red Rose,
Innocent as the Valley's Lily,
So revealing as the Cherry Blossom
and — of all that is left of me —
the most cherished like the Rudbeckia
— so be the thought of thee.

Hark me:
Happily dances Venus around the Sun;
Crystal River gorgeously strolls north;
The Arctic Tern makes feat
to embrace the delight of summer
And my thoughts have always
a happy ending — you.