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,
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–