by Ann Neilson

Dearest, my heart is truly thine

and in my own shall you remain,

until the depths, the tests of time

continue on, subsiding life,

omitting pain.


Winters, bitter, may hinder you

and leave your body shivering cold,

but I remain as the lark shall sing

its chipper tune on through the eve;

our hands will fold.


Spring will bloom and flowers forth

create a garden amidst you and I-

daisies, azaleas, rex begonia,

a garden in which we may lie back

and watch the sky.


Summer’s transition into warmth,

sun-kissed skin that freckles and glows,

honey dew drops and long, magical nights,

fireflies flicker and keep whispered secrets

which only we know.


Autumn’s cool brisk curses our garden,

frost tickling tips and nipping noses,

warm cider fills and nights shall fulfill

passions of the darker season;

the full moon arises.


Urges, cravings, desires, lust

compete with this longing heart of mine,

however my love, my adoration

is all yours, if you’ll be mine–

forever mine.