Bracts of the Soul

I fathom love, a fervent hand, a flaming heart, a foreign land.
And dellic love, a dahlia field, a daisy tear, a fervid zeal. My
Burning heart, a bleating flame, a vision born, a fallen rain.
And melic wind, a mystic mare, a magic wand, a mortal flare.
My torch aflame, a torrent sea, a burning heart, a sacred tree.
And fable love, a floral wave, a floret ache, a florid cave.
Indeed the flame, a vivid veil, a velvet sheet, a rustic dell.
And ballad love, a lucent lux, a tender tear, a psychic flux.
My fulcrum heart, a feral fleet, a mystic hand, a silent pleat.
And phantom love, a privy art, a plighted vex, a gated spark.
Indeed the soul, a solemn bract, a sophic ache, an iron sax.
And thunder love, a color blue, a cryptic crux, a tinted clue.
My motion heart, a heated flare, a subtle hex, a passion glare.
And hearken love, a living light, a valley wet, a verdant sight.