Perception In the Eye of the Beholder

The dream of beholding, Your round, withered beauty. With magnetic attraction, Of Aristotle’s profound deity. I ponder this question, on the eve Of knowledge, to beyond good and evil. The way you hang upon the tree, Absorbing colors, like a dream. You tempt me like a plant of intoxication, That I have grown to love. The smoke of harmony, To perceptions far and beyond. You hang by a small thread, That turned all fabrics of time. Your heated color, burns like fire, And your lies, are sweeter than truth. I’m drawn inside your absorbing glow, With illusions sublime, a sonata for two. The media of poison, held so perfectly, To obtain possession for the fairest of us all. On a still summer day, we climb up and consume, For all you bring, while in bloom.