(To a tune I originally wrote for Poul Anderson's "Mary O'Meara")

Christina, Christina,
Your lips are as soft as
The down of a chick in the nest,
And warm are your arms
When you cast them about me
As babies asleep on the breast.
My girl, you are only the best.

I kissed my sweet lady
Above the Willamette,
And knew I had found something rare.
That bridge and that day
Will be with me forever,
A memory to banish all care.
My Tina, my heart is still there.

Beloved Christina,
Your eyes are like jewels,
If jewels could shine on their own.
The oceans that swell in
My heart when I see you
Are too vast for mere flesh and bone,
But parched am I when I'm alone.

The moon look down kindly
On my dearest lady,
The sun find a home in her hair,
The stars in their heavens
Be always around her,
To cherish and guard her with care.
I would I could always be there.

Christina Frederica,
Some day you will be mine,
And I will be yours just the same,
To touch and caress
And to never let go of,
To kiss and excite and inflame.
My darling, just whisper my name.

—San Diego, California
6/14 and 7/4/2002
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