Flower is of divine,
when by love defined,
petals of passion,
stamen of sensuousness imbibed.
She is Daphne,
a Daphne that I pursue,
as an Artemis in my heart,
pampers breath of her bloom opens,
when her petals glisten in the subtle showers of my heart.
She is Peony,
force of healing in my soul,
makes me healing force myself,
when petals of her sweet scent,
brush up against my remorse.
She is Anemone,
that floats on the soft winds of love,
the wild gusts of passion,
that my heart and soul give up control,
The Adonis I am to her,
that chases her blooms in the forests,
that knows her blooms have no thorns for me,
shall not scar my hand,
when I take that exquisite risk,
of stroking her stamens soul.
She is the rose that rises in me,
when her petals sweet textures and pampers breath,
sing to my cheek and breath,
the blossom that opens to me,
when I entice her with my earthly waters,
so that she of love is no longer bereft.