Perfection rolled into a golden eye
Smooth as glass, as silk, as sky
Weighed in gold, it holds down the hand
A joy to behold, a gleaming band
Gazing with round, hollow stare:
Steady, unblinking, blank as air
So small, so cold, irreplaceable
A thrill to own, a jewel in the palm
Kept close to the heart, far from harm
.
And to each caress it but holds its gaze
As if it spoke speechless to one's soul
With all the blank regard of its eye
.
And no matter what is said it is a joy to heed
Listening laced with darkest pleasures dreamed
Fate's blessed gift, a joy to cherish
To treasure, to pleasure, to protect my precious
My one, my only, my very own
Mine in my hand and mine alone!
Mine to use, mine to guard, mine to see, mine to hide
To hide away from prying eyes
To secure, to treasure above all things
Be they splendors of earth or wealth of kings
Mine, my own!
It belongs to me, it came to me, by rights it's mine!
They have no right!
Beloved; it came to me!
.
(Oh mercy! where's the world gone?!)
.
My love! My love . . .
.
So bright . . .
.
. . . So beautiful
.
My Precious.