When Last my Love for Thomas Wyatt When last my love and I made love with mild caress and none of desperation we felt soft rain fall from above obliterating all other expectation. In cool of morning when the dew lay gleaming in a sunlight new resolving we felt the touch of something true all cares of night and dream-commotion salving. When thus in lovers’ arms we lay with clouds above so rapidly dispersing birdsong heralded the day a sky with all of nature’s joys traversing. But now my love has gone her way and I must wrench and ramble to pursue her through fields of mystery today to a morrow where the sunlight pierces through her. David Punter