Poems by John Pilkey |
John Roddam Spencer Stanhope. My Lady of the Water Gate In moonlight at the crossing of a dome, a six-foot loveliness passed evenly as two soft soles could press conveniently a stony temple smoothness into home. A rendezvous was settled with a groom, who stood in humble shadow patiently and matched domestic manner heavenly to banish noisy treading from the room. They whispered when the brush of her two feet gleamed motionless as his against the stone and ceased to stir until they could repeat Smooth vows the moon required from where it shone along the solemn edges of their soles to sanctify bare harmony of goals. John Davis Pilkey |
Private Wedding |
