Poem for a Lost Lover by Syl Cheney-Coker

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Eyes of heavenly essence, O breasts of the purity of breasts

Russian sapphire of the blue of eyes

O wine that mellows like the plenitude of Bach

Sargassian sea that is the calm of your heart

the patience of you loving my fragile soul

the courage of you moulding my moody words

I love you woman gentle in my memory!

O woman of the thirst of Siddhartha’s love

you that I lost in the opium of my youth

have you fallen among the rocks off the New England coast

or now in premature grey nurse a stubborn tear

at the window watching winter’s snow-coated leaves

here the tropical blossom of an African November

breathes gently on the tree of my heart

Oh that you could have known it woman of the sexual waters

heart of the spirit born of that love

dressing continents with garlands for whom I say

night strike my heart with the purest verse!

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