As a voice beneath the millpond sings

>From her past the lost June days are woken

And wind across the gorse slopes call

Through years, where the darkness roars

Until with wirl-pool panic heart she looks

Out of the looking-glass

And sees her standing by her side

Closes her soft grey eyes



Blurred hurried bliss

And the smell of space

Vanish through fires

Oh save me from the softness of your skin

I can see you in the millpond years

Quietly singing



And her voice across the millpond sings

Slow falling days and afternoons

Watching each other in the quiet looking-glass

While the geese ripple above the moors

The leaves turned an vanished with the storms

Falling through each others eyes

This tortured paradise



Her emerald dress

And the ivory sheets

Like delicate muscles

Sleep-walking through shapes that razor blind

But I can still see you in the millpond years

Quietly singing

I can see you there