All the poems in the novel were written by Carol Goodman’s husband, poet Lee Slonimsky.
Be not dismayed at winter's icy breath,
At jagged winds that tear and whirl fresh snow,
Revealing rock as chill and still as death,
Since balm of rose awaits thee soon below.
The very wind whose frigid hands thou feelst,
Those daggered enemies of flesh and bone,
Transforms to sweetness, hands that soothe and healst,
When thou descend into the summer sun.
Here other hands await, mine dewed with love
As roses are asplash in April's rays,
Their petals plucked by breezes on the move
From icy Alps to open-windowed days.
Our bed awaits thee, strewn with wisps of rose,
My longing more than any the wind knows.
The way the limonaia wombs these trees,
Within its sun-veined skin of fragile glass
To be reborn amidst spring’s gentle breeze,
I’ll give to thee, whose face art can’t surpass.
For how thy memory has lingered on -
In spite of cruelest winter’s drear and howl -
By inner mirror seen; I’ve dwelled upon,
I must confess, my treachery most foul.
But then! - I spy such lemons hanging bright,
And delicately sheathed with glass to show
How prosperous our love might be despite
Betrayal, wombed against entombing snow.
When love feeds on a fruit as bold as wine,
I once again can conjure thy love mine.
Love's Perfect Rose
I long for thee more than the wind can know,
More desperately than roses for the sun;
I crave the grace thy kisses can bestow
Upon my fallen self’s scarred flesh and bone.
My violation was no fault of mine;
My lowborn fate turned woeful in this bed
In contradiction of divine design;
My blood announced my anguish as I fled.
But on these very stairs once streaked with shame,
Thy trail of petals starts, leading up to
Our destiny to merge; pink wisps proclaim
Perfection greater than what Adam knew.
For blood is fleeting but love’s perfect rose
Blooms from eternity, as sunlight knows.
For rights inquiries regarding Lee Slonimsky please contact Ocean Partners LP
