By lisa s.  desim@hotmail.com
Date: 8 December 1998

Glimmering

it took hours to set the lights,
hang the ornaments, 
and arrange things just so.
the child sleeps,
the lights are dim
and I can see you 
reflected in a prism
or rainbow hues
flashing across your skin
and shining in your eyes---
men are not supposed to be beautiful.
But you are.
I hold you to me 
like the long lost lovee
of childhood---
warm, worn, but oh, such a comfort.
This is the opal light of glimmerings---
this is the warm of embers.
And you are my greatest gift,
and my best idea.