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Yonder, beneath green apple tree
My dearest love, you wait for me.
Below the fruit of summer fair,
I kneel to find you sleeping there.
Awake my love, and come with me!
Make not thy pillow hardened tree!
Rest, as you wish, your tired head
Inside my yearning arms instead.
My love, a seal I wish to be
There on your skin where all can see!
My love’s as strong as death’s dark grip
And jealousy waits on my lips.
The flame of my eternal love
Cannot be drowned in rain, nor flood.
No water wet enough to choke-
It burns like fire across the slope.
So wake and come to garden near-
Our friends are waiting for us there.
Hurry, my love, make quick your gait!
The sun will not be with us late!
Like wild gazelles, we’ll freely roam,
And speak the words of gentle poems.
This night our passion will be strewn
Beneath the gaze of silvery moon.
Love, rest your eyes some other day
Beneath this fruit in ample shade;
But now, like deer—let’s quickly go
To mountains where the spices grow.
Hope A. Horner, 2004
Inspired by Song of Solomon Chapter 8
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