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Shy one, dear one, keeper of my heart. She moves in the pantry quietly apart.
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There she pours the flour. There she kneads the dough to an isle in the water with her I would go.
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Shy one, dear one, keeper of my heart. She moves in the parlor quietly apart.
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She stands against the window, all in the fire glow to an isle in the water with her I would go.
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Shy one, dear one, keeper of my heart. She moves in the chamber quietly apart.
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And there she smoothes the linen and fluffs the pillows so to an isle in the water with her I would go.
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But I cannot sail for my boat has holes. So I rumple her pillow and I stir the coals.
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And in the parlor I guess she knows to an isle in the water with her I would go.
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ISLE IN THE WATER
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| Rod McKuen |
