Not You

I’m so glad I’m longing not for you,
I’m so glad it isn’t me you long for,
And that this sphere of blue and earthly hues
Will never spin away from us, and onward;
I’m so glad to joke and laugh and smile,
To be so flippant, shun the games and duels,
And never blush – so breathless, full of guile,
When brushing sleeves or hands – and feel a fool.

I’m so glad I haven’t cast a spell –
You hug another, nonchalant and blissful,
You don’t condemn me to eternal hell,
Because it isn’t you that I am kissing;
You never speak, My Dear, my dear name
In vain, in love, in tones shy of fluent,
And no one in halls of godly fame
Will ever sing the fateful “Hallelujah.”

I thank you with my vow, my hand and heart
For loving me – unwittingly, so dear
For quiet nights and for your artless arts,
For all the walks we never took, I fear;
For no-dates beneath the silver moon,
And for the sun that shines for others, kindly
It’s not for you, alas, I long and swoon,
It isn’t me, alas, you long and pine for…