Mellifluous Muse

In my hunger, I saw a hallucination of heaven. From afar, visions of a golden glow, lustered, lingering above a crowded crossroad. This aura of agave aromatherapy, left an amorous aroma of romantic ruminations, so I became a devotee, desiring her divinity. But, such was her evanescent existence, those effervescent eyes now seem ephemeral. Adrift in the angst of absence, I feel the lament of an autumn leaf, yearning to be evergreen, clinging to your stalk. Or to sharpen and shape like a tenacious thorn, honouring your rosso corsa, roseate radiance. If I was a polyamorous poet, my abundance of adjectives and alliterations, would be disloyal like daylight, so my vibrant vocabulary vows to allegorise you in my anthology of analogies. My mellifluous muse, I care not if your verses are vintage or virginal, as you are my most memorable metaphor - the assonance to compliment my consonance. In your majestic moonlight, I'm fluorescent, portraying a perpendicular penumbra, craving for you like a citrine crescent hoping to become complete. I'm a bard with a baritone ballad, blossoming words like spring sepals, into a boundless bouquet for my beloved, so remove the veil behind your verbs and reveal your velvet vermilion lips once more. There is an alluring art to an aubade. In an aureolin and amethyst aurora, our lantern of love will forever scintillate, serenading in smooth and soothing susurrus sounds, soaring in a serene sapphire sky, ascending like a saffron sunrise sonata and if cumbersome clouds, colour horizons in charcoal, delicately descend, pouring in holy drops, soaking my soul like spilling ink on unblemished ivory fibers.