the first days of spring are upon us and the rebirth is apparent in things all around us from the leaves slowly growing back to the grass, in need of mowing from growing fast squirrels nibbling on juniper berries the scent in air, sappy tar carried with pollen intermixed your allergies amiss though still fortunate for the spring
Soft days of wistful timelessness Iridescent wings outside my window The smell of honeysuckle so thick you can taste it Red berries stain my lips Your fingers in my mouth, sticky I hum with the magic of freedom With the audacity of leaving the cold, hard, buildings of success For warm honey moons and foxglove dreams Sponge cake afternoons and bare feet on cool wood decks Unrestrained laughter and ukulele strings A harmony that bends and then corrects itself The music and rhythm of a slow life, unbound.
My lips are fresh berries And my heart, a creamy peach. When I speak, My mouth drips mango juice, Delectable and raw. My mind is plentiful dragon fruit. My eyes are green melon, Bright and dewy. My fingertips, fragile blackberries, Tender and rich. My lungs are tangy lemon slices. To match my lemon soul- Consuming crisp air. My tongue, pleasant as pomegranate **** and joyful. I am alive.