Someday you will come to me,
someday you will bring me a seashell.

Then I will take your hand and tell you
how much I wanted you through all the days
when you were wedded to your
little bay of familiar birds and boats,
and through all the nights
when you were faithful, chaste and pure.
I will tell you how I ached to hear
the lingering way the evening holds your laughter,
and how I ached to touch the soft fire
of your red lips in the rain,
in this hilltop haven of skylarks.

Someday you will come to me;
someday I will give you a sprig of myrtle.

Note
Similar to the Greeks’ association of myrtle with Aphrodite, the Romans dedicated it to their goddess of love, Venus. According to legend, at her miraculous birth when she arose out of the sea, she was carrying a sprig of myrtle.