Pa**ionate love for the Duke of Fire
the Duchess of Ice felt.
One kiss was her heart's desire,
but with one kiss she would melt.
She dreamed of him in his red pantaloons,
in his orange satin blouse,
in his crimson cravat,
in his tangerine hat,
in his vermilion dancing shoes.
One kiss, one kiss,
lips of flame on frost,
one kiss, pure bliss,
and never count the cost.
She woke. She went to the bathroom.
She took a freezing shower-
her body as pale as a stalagmite,
winter's frailest flower.
The the Duke of Fire stood there,
radiant, ablaze with love,
and the Duchess of Ice cared nothing
for anything in the world.
She spoke his name,
her voice was snow,
kissed him, kissed him again,
and in his warm, pa**ionate arms
turned to water, tears, rain.
CAROL ANN DUFFY
(FROM MEETING MIDNIGHT, FABER, ISBN 0571201202)
GIRL AND TREE
A girl fell in love with a tree
and a tree with a girl.
Holding the tree in her arms, the girl said
Tree, I love you best in the world.
Why, said the tree, do you love me so?
Because of the green of your leaves, said the girl.
The girl climbed up into the tree
and sat on a branch, dangling her legs.
Girl, girl, I love you best, believe me please,
whispered the tree.
Why, said the girl, do you love best me?
Because of your cherry-red dress, said the tree.
Then the wind blew and the tree's green sails
breathed and gasped and filled with air
and the wood of the tree creaked like a ship
and the girl was Captain there.
Only the moon, agog with light,
saw the girl and the tree that night
when the whole town, in full pursuit,
came with dogs and searched the woods
where a smiling girl in a cherry-red dress
slept in the arms of a tree, like fruit.