A briny deep of ink blobbed in a single drop
trembling at the tip of my head,
sliding to my toes, poised above
the golden trees of old parchment.
Deeper than the stroke of rouge
opera, with touch of light
and sable in the eyes, with
a love just as passionate
as when my heart found
my muse, and first penned it ....

How simple it would have been
like a rose that has risen our
love, like a bloom, more within
our flower, that you kissed,
days live within, for many suns to see,
moons reply, where Angels fly
and ride chariots of gold.
To love the hand that guide
my heart within loving seas
that rest under my loves breath
that is set deep in my eyes .....

Debbie Brooks 2014