As I reflect on slow dainty sips,
The light from the window
Disclosing your tea-wetted lips,
I remember thinking that your profile
Was sweeter than soft caressing rain
On the strangely distant windowpane
And that your features betrayed
The subtle art of nature's paint palette
As surely as she had conceived
The embrace of a summer's eve.

The rhythm of droplets lost in time
Whose steady drip, drip singing
Formed a calming refrain
Played host to
The afternoon canvas of exuberance
Which now bleeds its
Pastel colors to oblivion
On the pages of my mind.

You had a compelling innocence then
Which could not conceive of boundaries
While your twinkling eyes
Recalled in me the
Urgent spice-aroma of
A hot midday field of wildflowers
Full of defiant life and
Nearly exploding from the neck and temples.

In the half-light of the study
I marveled at the hue of your
Cinnamon-cream skin
In its summer blush;
The delicate symmetry of your lips
The easy confidence of your laughter
Your casual, almost unkempt hair--
Inviting a touch or a caress--
Which conjured within me
An urgent near-irrepressible expectation
Of the scent and feel of your embrace.

You were made for love
The kind of love
Which fills each moment,
Each glance, each act,
With the awareness,
The intensity, and
The passion of a lifetime.
Your eyes opened to
Well-guarded secret possibilities
I had not dared to entertain before.

And as I became overwhelmed
by your beauty
and the sweetness of your voice
my eyes returned to
the flower in my hand
its color and scent
enchanting reminders of
you
the only missing puzzle piece
which can complete
the longing in my heart.

J. Sandy