My Lover's Voice

    When he speaks of noble things,
    or whispers words of love,
    my lover's voice soars like a golden cloud;
    but when he turns to me with tenderness,
    his words take on the faintness
    of a windborne tune that floats
    as softly as the song of rustling birds
    before the dawn, when summer sleeps
    among lofty trees. Far richer than
    the vales of France , more colorful
    than sapphire skies above the swirling
    sea-born breeze--my lover’s voice.