Called to the feast

She calls her beloved
Come find me, I am waiting for you,
listening and ready.
I live quietly in the hope of you.

He replies
I will find you in the soft dawn,
in the garden among lilies and tulips.

She calls
Again, and still again,
I make ready for you,
you may appear at any moment.
You are my treasure and delight,
my desire, my landscape.

He replies
I will find you smiling
in the green light of early day.

She calls
I have prepared a place for you.
You are welcome at any time.
Sit at my table, let me serve you.
Here is meat with rosemary,
fruit with honey.

He replies
I will find you on the terrace,
the grace of your arm beguiles me.

She calls
Here is wine and crusty bread
olives glistening,
cheeses white and yellow.
The scent of honeysuckle warms the air.

He replies
My olive-girl,
refreshment and vigour
replete at your table.

She calls
Come quietly and drink the wine,
come slowly and eat the food,
come early and sit in the arbour,
come late and lie in my bed.

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