Mónon Autón
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
“And you must love him ere to you
He will seem worthy of your love.”
~William Wordsworth

John could not think to figure out just why
He loved him (Charles). It might have been his hair,
His hair like Absalom’s while he was hanging high,
His body pierced with darts (that oak tree’s snare)
But beautiful, black, beautiful those curls
In life, in death. His hare-brained way of thought
It might have been, that way his brain in twirls
Found sweeps away from scripture’s should and ought.
It might have been his hands and forearms raised
For heaven’s chrism on his hair with oil
Of frankincense and myrrh as Charles’ heart praised
Christ, black his curls in blackest coil, coil, coil.
Yet John knew well while singing Sabbath’s hymn
That he loved Charles for what was only him.


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