Apple
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.
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