Faces: a poem for my wife on this our twenty-fifth



Maria's smile is

like pearls dangled from a darning needle,

like the harlequin of smiles, sweetly
like a pearly tulip spun on its stem;

or a trim face over a languid doll neck,
or all of a lilac in a wide panting field;

a smile from all of these:—pearl, needle
and stars spun on bright. A smile,

near-astral, on which to gorge awhile,
with the lips' gauche tilt, a sweeping front;

a champagne of a smile, in pixy groves,
each cheek a rose on a mud-sated vine.

Like all the soft-stroked, bird or leaf,
a smile set to a dusky, scented moon.

In ruby trim, sprightly and warm a smile
to vanish into the heart-gladdening eye—

the eye mostly!—pettish days try sparking
and bob-tailed nieces wear like a charm.

Out of all these: candy floss or puppet soft
rising light on the wings of a damselfly.