Comments Inbox
| |
You, My Love
You smell like the earth
after a thunderstorm,
like peat moss and rusty spades,
like smoke rings from a pine forest,
sweet tobacco drying in the attic --
You taste like almonds
sprinkled with a touch of sage,
roasted pumpkin seeds --
You sound like the cry of the peacock
that shouts green for blue
as the warmth of the sun
touches the frosty savannah --
You pulsate my footsteps
like the mighty eagle,
folding, unfolding your wings
along the veins
of a desolate uphill path --
You are the Baobab that grows
where the ground becomes even
and all that is left, is to love.
* I wrote this on your birthday...thank you for all the beautiful gifts you have given me...I will love you forever.
|
|
|