Poems by Nelferch Merchoed
The Song of the Threshold
I wake in morning's dew.
The fog has not yet lifted
A veil which fell
Protecting our sleep
In this sweet bower
of magic and enchantment
you conjured up for me
The house of thousand crystal droplets
Catching the light
And bearing coloured jewels
from radiant whiteness.
My bed is green like emerald
Bedewed with our joy
And on my breast you placed
A flower blue
that I may not forget
where I can find
the treasure of the heart.