Sunday, May 11, 2014

Love On The Vine, How Thee Dost Ripen

She is the answer to my prayers,
my life, my wife, my everything.
The subject of so many dares,
the result of so many taking.

I rolled her over and looked at her,
the young body unspoiled by several births,
the epitome of all that gentle nature
can do on this and other Earths.

Eyes so deep, dark and beckoning,
lips so full, plump and soft,
mornings without end or reckoning
piled one on the other here in our loft.

Hips that formed the perfect seat
for love of the deepest type.
Ever since the good days repeat
and love grows until fully ripe.

It is hard to imagine this love deepening,
but every minute bears witness to the same.
Beyond belief, it appears always to be happening
and this life of ours becomes example, one of fame.

Couples near and far come to see for themselves
if they too could be so trapped in the cycle
of endless love there beneath the storm-carved shelves
by the warm beaches of rapture nearly maniacal.

And so loving and beloved, we strolled the sands hand-in-hand,
headed from a morning of love to an evening of even more.
From far away we could hear the musical inklings of some band
but here we were lost in each other beyond the farthest shore.

How will our vine-ripened love ever be picked?
By God himself; he who created it would see to its ending.
Our Milky-Way veins he would have them pricked
and across the universe our love song be sending.

There for all time in the night-laden skies above,
amongst fair Aquarius and plains-prowling Leo,
carried there upon the wings of the Holy Spirit's dove,
would reign the symbol of love so great, this romantic duo.

mindbringer, 9 May 2014