Reclining Beauty, Fritz Zuber-Bühler (c. 1880)
Orchestra plays music this early morn,
Coaxing me back from a wondrous dreamland.
Get up quickly and shine cries the French horn,
As I rub away from my eyes the sand.
Begrudgingly my bare feet meet the floor,
Preferring to return to dream I’d come.
But can’t ignore timpani at my door,
Shaking my limp body making it numb.
Pulling me up are the violin strings,
Creating songs from the birds on the sill,
Giving the feeling of a thousand springs.
Now I’m awake eager to do your will.
You my dearest love, you are my symphony,
Nothing more treasured than just you and me.