Allow me to speak love to you.
To speak lovingly of how you are water to a parched world.
If only dried lands and spirits contorted by malnourishment could partake of you.
They would feast like world powers with coffers over flowing
with enough surplus to satisfy greedy hearts and hungry bodies.

I would speak of your loving healing.
How the disorienting effects of lost loves subside with each endearing word from you.
I am coherent and in my rightful place as a recipient of your love
and with your love I share your nurturing spirit with others.
I am a blessing with your love.

Let me speak of you in the elements of nature.
You are the Mother’s Help Mate and you swaddle me in the rays of your sun.
The vacillating heat of submerged springs cause me to rise as your love beckons me.
My thoughts babble like new born brooks when they roll toward your *****.
Your love draws me to what I would call home.

I would speak of your loving tenderness
and how it inspires an innocent and caring love for you.
Of birds and breezes on tender blades and flowers releasing their covering as we display no shame.
No ritual or suggestions for keeping fires burning in some oasis of romance.
Touch me and you will see me blush under your expanding warmth.
I am supple in your presence.

I speak love to my realization of you;
your flesh encasing a triune soul.
peace, joy and patience.
An acknowledgement of being
And with my words, now, I honor the love of you.