If you were an apple, I’d be tempted to take
a bite. More than just one, offered in your own
outstretched palms up, to catch the sun ripe
in burning, some enchanted late summer eve.
Together, beneath shades of cool, forgiving
bower, stretch in sheltered heaven’s harbour,
shower all apples, wind-falling we lie tasted
cradle me to you in warm long hours wasted.
Those holes you wear weep, they speak tales
of driven nails and how love shall not prevail,
waltz three four in masks so strong, conceal
from you but not us - how storms, how hail,
how currents strong will drive all ocean spray
to shock with grinding teeth battlement rocks
once proud: envious watch all ticking clocks
stand still. On Cornish cliffs pass me your scar
and I will wear it, my love, upon ruffed shirt.
To brave all your tempests will I make it mine
like apples you cast before me, set me chasing
love’s arrows, in heartbeat and pulses racing,
crusader in only your name, make me kneel
to dub shoulders with your tempered sword,
we both will come together under sworn words.
Crisp on my watering tongue, tart apple strong
singing songs in juice that bind our love long.