by Cheryl Ross
I have always liked the character of Elaine Besbriss.
She reminds me of a Botticelli Virgin, beautiful and calm but
somehow sad. I tried to capture Elaine's spiritual
quality
in this poem about her love for Benton. The title,
Devotion
is meant here in the religious sense as a prayer.
Comments appreciated. cross@norlink.net
He won't be mine
I know that now
I could wish away a thousand years
I place a thousand salty tears
before him on a platter
made of my own heart
and he would simply smile
that gentle smile
and turn away.
He doesn't want my love
my love so fierce and true
that it could move the earth
and cause the stars to fall
My love is less than one tear
in his indifferent ocean.
He fills my eyes
til I can't see another thing
but glances over me
like some pale shadow
If only I could catch that glance
and pull his blue eyes into mine
I'd make him see
what burns inside of me.
There is no chance
he will come and go
and pull my poor heart
upon the tide
of his uncaring grace
He will not know
I live to see his face
He will not hear
my heart cry out
as he moves by.
He could save us both
with one whispered word
the slightest saintly touch
but he will not
He will drift past my life
a solitary angel
just beyond my tender reach
I have opened up myself
but he will not enter in
so I will grieve forever
what heaven might have been.