Could I unclothe the goddess of sweet Night,
My trembling hand draw back her ebon veil,
I’d see—and nearly swoon from my delight—
You naked as a wild mare, lithe and pale,
Outstretched with beckoning hands and flashing eyes,
Hope glowing in your cheeks and hot desire,
Soft moonlight gleaming on your breasts and thighs,
Your coy, sweet smile that burns with secret fire!
So taken, I would give myself to you;
My hands, my mouth, each tender part of me
Would be yours to command, caress, and view:
An offering for your sacred ecstasy.
That glorious night, I shall be one reborn
And take you as my goddess of the Morn!
George Chadderdon © 2005