Images of my wife

For our 36th anniversary, I made a little card for my wife (sorry Hallmark, I NEVER buy cards). The cover picture was the Dancing Tara image I produced for my Ottoman Beachcomber ebook (you can view the image at: http://shivvetee.blogspot.com/2012/07/ottoman-beachcomber-4-images.html). Inside the card I printed out a small collection of excerpts of the many images of Nancy in my poetry. Below you can read those excerpts. You will see that the long poem, Song ov Elmallahz Kumming (written in 6 books) prominently appears in this collection. That's because the poem is all about us. Of course, Elegies in Nance, a 9 poem series, is also about us. And then there are many dozens of individual poems, and an untold number of images and scenes appearing in other long poems, including In the Ruwenz of the Tempel, I Herd... and The Atternen Juez Talen.

Thus:

From Weighing the Golden Thredz:
Her radient chambers, and the bed ov her luv
Ware she let fall her shados, and my Sol enkindeld with the lite.

From Elegy over the Sea:
Are the young girls now so fine as she, when I knew her?
Impossible to tell; I see her face in theirs.
She made me a pagan; I idolized her body.
And if that were a sin, I would not repent.
And though her face was pale it was yet more glowing
Than the worship of that God that made religion.

From Elegies for Nance:
Your body was the myth, I merging into it.
Your love was the liquor I drank till my mind swam with Ertha.

From Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 1:
Az if erlee don and the faent kry ov loonz
Made faenter by vaperz that shrowd the salt marshez,
So her vois wuz vage, misteereyus.

Az if a wouman meerlee puling a brush thru her hare,
But in that deseptivlee simpel moshun
A meerreyad illuzhenz surrownded her prezzens,
Exerting thair powwer like a werlpull
Agenst my feer ov her inkoherens.

From Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 2:
No! I wil not sing ov separaten. No, not ov sorro eether!
Let me tel yu how I luvd her, tel yu how it wuz between us.
In this way, perhaps, I kan sho yu wy it wuz I kame tu her.

From Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 3:
Ritten the storee ov my huzbandz demize,
Him hu klaemd immorten knowen
And iz ded and awl hiz tablets ar krak....
Oenlee this tu tel:  wen, in my armz he lay
    And he wuz enlarjd,
    Awl the annallogz ov my luv
    Swam in hiz vaenz, awl the goedz
    Shot forth taelz frum thaer mowthz.
    Then I knu wut luv wuz!

From Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 4:
Az if the wind wer bloing and stirring the surfas tu Life...
Az if an oyster wer openning tu offer up its perl...
Theyodorra rizez tu the surfas ov the see
Eskorted by dolfinz hu playfullee sport at the wotterz ej.
She standz in korrona ov jem-like droplets
And steps owt ov the kristellin See.
Her boddee iz koppergoeld, strong, and naked;
Her eyz ar dark with shaddoez;
Yu ar staring and she knoez it.
She iz akting; she iz perfektlee at eez.

From Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 5:
O Ertha, O Ertha, abzorbd intu yur pashen
The werl iz bekum like a foggee beech.
Ware iz the Sol and ware ar yu
Hidden in the dens and dreemlike vaperz?

From Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 6:
Now in the getto, now on the beech.
Now in the smoke stak, now in the see.
Awl her moments wash owt ov her skin.
She iz Eve, she iz Addom, she iz Erthah aggen.

Frum affar seez Erthah her Elmallah
On Mownt Hermoen in the rizzen sun.
And he seez her rizen like Venes
Frum the see, her Soel koyeld in the waevz.

From The Atternen Juez Talen, Era 5, Part 1:
Surah! Yur pure an holee waez
Ar but a fadee memmer now.
Her, hu iz my neshammah, Nayomee,
Thaer I fownd yu ferst.
Thaer ar abbundens, ar luv, ar chieldz
Ar trubbellee dayz, ar wizdem fule.

From The Atternen Juez Talen, Era 8, Part 2:
An then az if an aenjel fliez intu the rume an seeng a salm,
The dotter ov Shah-ool, Batkoel, enkwiyerenz
In a seeng-song toen, she, 
Huze vois I nevver herden, so sweet an perfek in akkord
An like an ood*, she strum my seel,
            * Middel Eesten mewzakkel instrumen
    "Tel me wut yur Surahz like." [she sez tu me.]

My tung, my miend, the herts ov me awl taengel up.
Wut kan I say? An wuns aggen my fase tern red
Az I simmerz in the spise ov her.

Aggen she laf in my un-eez, but not a sharp or pointee laf,
But like she touk my han an sez
    ‘I even like that part ov yu.'