The touch of a hand,
The warmth of another,
That precious tickle,
That burning feeling inside,

Living flame,
Dancing throughout my garden.

The garden I cultivate for you,
A field of crimson, the purest red,
It is your colour, a sanctity, a shrine for you,
This garden, my life’s passion,

A never ending field of Lycoris Radiata,
Growing inside my mind.

Temples and palaces,
Cathedrals and castles,
The works of generations,
They’re all incomparable to the garden I grow for you,

Thousands of year in worth of work, the species’ finest art,
Rivalled by the Eden I cultivate for you, the moments it took for my garden to grow.

Problems are non existent in the garden,
Yours or mine, I can no longer tell,
But I know for a fact that they cannot grow here,
All that grows is the Lycoris Radiata, swallowing all other forms of life or death,

That is, before the deluge,
Before the moment you walked into my garden.

Before the moment you entered the realm I constructed for you,
Before the moment you graced the garden with your presence,
Before the moment you shattered the illusion of grandeur,
Before the moment you trampled the finest of the Lycoris Radiata,

The death of my garden,
The collapse of my life’s work, that somehow lasted mere moments.

But it’s okay,
I didn’t want the field of crimson anyway,
I didn’t want the garden of Eden,
You snake.

I hope you know I hate you,
Because now I’m growing hydrangea,
And it’s going to be the most beautiful garden on earth, lush and green and all for me.

By LLL

A red spider
Spinning a web
At the rim of your way
Like a silver flickering net.

A red moon
Glowering pale
Like a blooded pond
In the stars eternal vale

A red flame
Like a waving flag
Hissing, crawling, spitting
Sparking into a heaven black.

A red sun
Spilling ****** light
With dawn to dusk
From day and night

A red bird
Reaching for the skies
Raising in hybris
To fear and agony he flies

A red fever
Burning through flesh n' bone
And boiling sweat and tears
That are but a drop on a hot stone

A read tear
That was made of blood
Slowly dripping down
From the realms of the gods

And then there's that red flower
Blooming along your long, lone path
Meaning nothing but sorrow
And black, cruel . . .

It was a look in her eyes I'd never
seen in his-
Taken a bit off guard but
looking, as it is-
Respectfully, she's got respect but
don't know how to read a room
Respectfully, after a year she stopped making me feel desired
Broken finger, love still as tombs--

I miss that look in her eyes.
She became for me what he was.
Took me a bit off guard but
also built up over a year or two-
Respectfully, I wouldn't ****-talk her but also sometimes she was mean
Don't know, did she intend it?
Or are we all needlessly cruel things?

By the end I felt disgusting.
The beginning was sublime.
I read these poems and realize,
we did it right, and she was mine...
But I see now loving isn't always enough.
You have to work at it.
She tired of working.
I had to leave.

These orchids are yours, and with them, all colours known to earthly sight.

They shall prove rigid, ever blocking Time's course, professing eternity their right.

Roses express my affections well; blooming amidst the warmth of Summer, fed to satisfaction by the dew of your lips . . . yet they shall wither.

Then dry dust shall be my affections' well; blooming Lycoris Radiata legions advancing amidst the warmth of Death's banner . . . Towards our love's ellipse . . .

YET -

These orchids are yours, and with them, the multi-folded papers from which their fibres and petals are equally composed. These are humble gifts, but were they to boast: "We orchids offer to thine love, an eternity; an assurance of perpetuity, by toast."

gem scones
and ginger loaf bread,
slathered with farmfresh butter.

washed down with
oh so **** cold home made
lemonade ices.

little pots of salmon rillettes
and tiny potted prawns
eaten on crisp potato wafers.
crustless finger sandwiches
of cucumber and tomato,
grown twenty feet to the left
of where we sit.

in the shade of the radiata pine tree.
minted gingerale punch.
sunshine dappled light,
playing on fine glassware.

the aromas of ovenlove
mint, pine, ginger, citrus
and salt,
mingle with old spice and
lavender water, of the grands, dozing,
as they sit baking, basking,
in the afternoon heat.

high tea,
at the homestead farm.
on the windswept coastal
plain.

once every couple of months,
awaited with much, anticipation.
remembered with much
fondness
a feast of food, family
and  much love.

I passed by a lea while
walking in the prairie
grassy meadows sprinted
towards green horizons

bumpy hills
and rocky crags
clothed the verdant meadow
willows and gum trees
shaded the countryside

She was like an oasis
I fell in love with the lea
with her alluring grassy hair
and fertile aura

I sat down in her *****
and curled up in her supple
valley

Smooth sunlight trickled down
on us
watering the lea in a dandelion glow

The scent of apple cinnamon
and radiata pine wafted towards
me spicing the air with the lightness
and beauty of a butterly’s wing-beat

an ineffable sigh
escaped from secret chambers
of my heart
and leaped into the romantic air as
I wedded this lea
under the turquoise sky
with the sunlit trees
as witness

I passed by a lea while
walking in the prairie
grassy meadows sprinted
towards green horizons

bumpy hills
and rocky crags
clothed the verdant meadow
willows and gum trees
shaded the countryside

She was like an oasis
I fell in love with the lea
with her alluring grassy hair
and fertile aura

I sat down in her *****
and curled up in her supple
valley

Smooth sunlight trickled down
on us
watering the lea in a dandelion glow

The scent of apple cinnamon
and radiata pine wafted towards
me spicing the air with the lightness
and beauty of a butterly’s wingbeat

an ineffable sigh
escaped from secret chambers
of my heart
and leaped into the romantic air as
I wedded this lea
under the turquoise sky
with the sunlit trees
as witness

but what good is a
fallen flower
except to be stepped upon
crushed under your
unwavering soles
of courage, bravery and
anger

i gift you this corsage of
lycoris radiata and
poison ivy,
and may you wear it till
the flowers fall

and crush you.