One Year (Sacred Love)

Strawberries and lime, my love: an aphrodisiac; and beige
Almonds: a joy. We color art, a feral plum; and drift the
Waves, a garden peach. To hear your name: a field of fire;
And touch thunder, a violent grip; and claw earth, a
Woman’s vibe; and climb a quince, the weakest branch;
And carve a note, a year of love. A seed is sewn, the root
Of steel; and sheltered hearts, a grove of green. Indeed a
Grape, a taste of love: the drug of thought: the wettest
Love; and hand to grass, the deepest calm: “the basket, love”:
The quaintest palm; and army ants, a foot away: a steady
Trail: a sunny day; and nectar rich, a blend of fruits: a
Gentle smile: a pint of soup. My welkin love, the months
Have passed: our love has died: we sigh and gasp; but
Deepest blue, the tales of love: a solemn thought: a sacred love.