Henny, your sweetness is to me
Like none from any friends of mine
So gently does my heart find thee;
I wander weary labyrinthine times
And find you in my mind.
On lonely paths I hapless roam –
Your soulful eyes, your chilly nose,
Your endless faith has found a home
To a purity of love and life
That never came by child or wife.
See, how upon the cushioned chair
Curled, comma-like, I see you wound
Alert beyond the hunting hound.
Ah friend for life, I stroke your hair –
Our love is holy ground.