Clementine Poem by Andrew Benton

Your love for me
is treasure dear,
my darling Clementine.

A ray of hope
beneath the sun-
a rare red sip of wine.

Your beauty is not of the line
of mortal maidens fair-
you traipse through golden lilac fields
without worry or care.

In hours fell when other dames
flee blindly in their fright,
the brazen strength with which you stand
lends credence to your might.

When you sing joyful choruses
through cold and pompous rain,
a strong north wind blows to my ear
and whispers every strain.

Within the halls of learning just
you are oft seen to dwell-
many a mortal heresy
you are said to dispel.

My heart knows that no ill can touch
a soul such as is thine;
I come as surely as the tide
my darling Clementine.