16. XVI
(XVI)

O, Emma! O, Emma! O, Emma!
Take my love. I have traveled miles for you,
squashed sickness and maggot
with bareness of feet. I have slept
on cold ground, trudged hot earth,
wrestled with the spiteful wind.
The pains of struggle disappear near you,
Emma, O, Emma! Your image guided me
through this land, help from your words
that breeze through wild juniper & thyme.
Please hear my cries and take them
softly, understand my performance
is to show you my devotion. Take me
for this, take me for more, take me
and lock my fingers around your own,
never to look at this floral green
without the company of one’s other
ever again. O, Emma, look at me,
show me your face, give me your voice,
I have proven myself.