For the love of my garden, the dirt under my nails. |
Upon awakening I crave you. Forgoing all others I am drawn. I curse the night That blinds my sight, Awaiting eagerly the dawn. I cannot stall the urge, All my passion, Awaits the surge, That will float me to your arms. I reach out, touch you, Breathlessly you sigh Opening yourself to me. Gentle hands are searching Tickling your surface. Sun and air rush Into the space heretofore lacking. You smile at the attention, Relaxing with abandon. Words of love I mention, Murmurs of heartfelt praise. Succumbing to such gratitude I have for select days. I have no other vessel In which to pour my adoration. As low as you may wander There is none above your station. I am secretly covetous When with others I must share you. For they are ignorant of your power, Blindly ignoring the incorruptible Perfection of your face. I hoard the minutes To squander in hours Spent lolling in your embrace. Later while in repose, Your fragrant essense lingers A gift to my nose Embedded in my fingers I inhale deeply Finding memory linked to odor. One breath of you, fans the flame Of a desire that eternally smoulders. |