marigolds

feeling the cold of a winter's night, the darkness fades into the distance with only echos of the traveling voices of eternity
my heart longs for your presence, left doubting itself for the past has been a painful experience
yet still my heart doth yearn for thee, thy hair flows with waves of beauty passing over my heart
considering the love of your sweet presence, like a furnace lighting and warming the room on a cold winter's night
you lay upon my chest, and as your sweet smell permeates my being the dim marigolds dance upon your face
with the beating of your heart firmly on my hand, cold fingers warm anew with the light of your soul
each beat of your heart represents a still moment in time, passing in splendor as the night draws to a close
as you turn, your eyes look upon me and i consider your dreams, for you beg to be understood
my heart feels the purity of your passion and realizes the gentle nature you represent
too many times i have been brash, delivering presumption on a whim later regretting these acts of foolishness

you are a beautiful stallion riding into the night, always aware of your direction never failing
your mane is as soft as your heart, for i must learn to carefully brush it back as not to lose your trust which is priceless
pride had failed me once, and taken boats of wind about foolishness broken upon that something beautiful
this is not easily acquired, for it takes quite some time to show myself to you for you are frightened of a previous companion
he spurred your sides to get his way, and this is never acceptable for the passenger should always be aware

i beg thy forgiveness for my heart has grown cold on subjects of old, and they should be tucked away in their place
for there is a place for everything as you said, each trinket in the proper drawer only removed at the correct time
restlessness plagues my spirit for i have seen the err in my ways, only bound now by the thoughts of contrition
my love, you speak of wonders that make my heart grow lighter and remove the damage of yesteryear's winter
your form is enough to keep my heart glad, and i should not be given to pride for it consumes the soul
begging for every space and removing the passions that attract your sweet and gentle spirit

casting aside these old things i find a weight has been lifted from my core, a certain youth has left me
for confusion plagued me in my former days, but now i clearly see the path of wisdom in your lips
i liken them to ripples on the vast ocean, your sweet and gentle kisses join a spirit of oneness
and as the tears fall from the corners of your eyes, i reach for you and kiss them hoping to mend what was broken
for your heart is a treasure, full of grace and truth, and the cobbled ways of a foolish man have stepped upon its supple ground
i have broken the branches of your tree, which have fallen while i was climbing upon its sturdy trunk

you are to me a special and delicate woman, for all women are a wonderful gift prized above all things and waiting to be understood