The Love of Kings

Meet me in the orchard, love; and smile joy. So much the sun,

A yellow-orange; and so much the love, to dance the fields;

And we cry purple, a royal grey; and we frolic teal, the joys

Of fruit; and pink gazelles, leap and swirl: the wiles of beige:

The pearls of God; and tragic death, the laws of life; and

Frantic birth, a moment’s gift; and deep the love, to carve a

Tree; and deep the oak, the roots of love; and music soft, the

Lute of art; and loft the clouds, the flute of hearts; and daisy

Dreams, a brilliant blue: a pregnant joy: the realms of light;

And tulip red, a foot to dance; and attic rose, the deepest sea;

And bless-ed pain, a sheer embrace: a moment’s bliss, a

Fervent love; but tragic art, a fair goodbye; and love anew, a

Cello soft; and back and forth, the course of love: a kingly

Honor: a woman’s blood.