Courting Her Seasons

Her first touch is bold,

Skin bronzed and gold,

Breath on your neck is a moist flower,

For eternity and every hour;

Such carnal flames she enkindles,

The blood in your veins serenades Her like a cymbal,

Like warm putty in your hands, Her body you can mould,

In her embrace you forget the pains of old.

This incessant thrum of power,

She resonates your spirit and you see your soul tower,

Her saccharine lips sweeten everything you taste,

Every thought is with Hers': Interlaced;

At the edges of your sanity you pray,

In her soul, you feel your fears fray,

Her silhouette eclipses the pain,

You smile, She can make it rain;

Yet the rain will end as it assuredly should,

You realise you have to learn, chop winter's wood,

For summer and spring shall come too,

Till she makes it rain again, You realise, with her, you grew;

Seasons shall change as much as you love the rain,

Yet know this, those droughts are not in vain,

For she is rain when you needed the water, She will be the Sun when you need the warmth,

She is the climate you need, the moon up in Winter's north!

All Your touches are bold,

Her skin, bronzed and gold,

Your breath on her neck is a fiery flower,

For eternity and every hour...