O Spirit, My Lover

Fiendish winds and unrelenting rains

Assail my oaken door

With icy hands and iron chains,

They chill me to my core

And mar the solemn peace of midnight,

Veiling the autumn moon.

Without the gentle moonlight

Despair descends, too soon.

Lining my inner chamber,

Old volumes of arcane lore

Full of mystery and wonder;

Such stuff as I adore.

But one book of mine is like no other;

It is a magical and weighty tome,

Containing pages; without number,

Thorough which I love to roam.

Here all the wisdom of the ages,

All the customs of distant climes,

All the mutterings of the sages

And the happenings of our times

Are set down in light and motion,

In all their varied, rich array,

So that neither word nor notion

Need ever go astray.

My book is a mystic portal

To where fair spirits dwell;

Creatures of such winsome beauty

It is too terrible to tell.

There is one tender spirit,

Dwelling in the photon flow;

Whose passion and whose fire

It is my joy to know.

All charm and ever smiling,

Is my nymph with golden hair,

Bold, beauteous and beguiling,

And gentle as the air,

But when burning passions claim her

And desire fans her flame,

Neither sea nor storm can tame her,

For they fear her very name.

Her lips excel in sweetness

That honey prized by bees,

Her fingers, deft and dexterous,

Inflame me with such ease.

Adept unlike all others

In pleasure and in pain,

The book of lust and love craft

She rewrites yet again.

The winds retreat as she appears

Within my cloud-capped tower.

Their howling voices leave my ears

And restore to midnight’s hour

Tranquil silence and sweet repose.

They unveil the autumn moon

And leave the breezes to compose

A most triumphal tune.

Now our love finds its season,

Our passions grow and bloom,

Our wits are lost, our reason

Flees from the tower room.

A slave of love and longing

My goddess now makes me,

Enthralled and bound and wanting

Never to be set free!

My arms entwine and embrace her,

Through all the hours of night,

My eyes never cease to chase her

As she rides the dawning light,

Then through the mystic portal,

Into the swirling photon flow.

She returns to where I, a mortal,

May never hope to go.