For Tamar

This seventeenth fair Twenty-fifth of May
At my old desk I sit at break of dawn,
And with a tender smile recall the day –
Or rather night – when you, dear date!, were born.
Released from labour now (both work and birth),
Kind Lia is immersed in passive sleep:
Upon that face I glimpse our Mother Earth,
With all her woes, delights and mysteries deep.
Perhaps, O Moonchild, you are still awake,
Enchanted yet again by Luna’s spell
Or thought of Avishai or birthday cake
Or fairy who will chime the secret bell.
Whatever be the case, I this impart:
Most fruitful is your mind and sweet your heart.
Michael Peach
25 May 2004

Tamar: Hebrew for Date Palm and its fruit


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