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| la vie a las lit de roses |
cradle me in there and sing to me;
parodies of silent operetta,
that comfort me and make me better
yet often prick me for I can feel your pain...
The earth unearthed and birthed you,
summoned by the will of higher power.
The tropics told tales of changed weather,
as you anew lost all fortunes mercy,
of radiant colour flowing out your lips...
You once used to flux white winter crystals,
but when we met it's like you had cracked teeth,
It felt like you were ashamed or afraid to speak.
but you smiled, and I l lost all speech,
they told me I missed to hear you sing..
A Mimosa-pudica; I shrunk in fear my dear,
when I asked you to join me in wanderlust-
on a tour to the lea of loves great expanse...
I felt like you held your words in pride,
but you held peace sign after which we did stride...
It felt like we had been lovers in our past lives,
held hands in silence like entwined canopies-
the beauty of it seen outward and inward.
We had peace of natural ever green,
and the nature of the wild stomping in our hearts.
We went where the water falls fall and leaped,
after which love followed and blossomed.
I now stare into your eyes, your golden eyes,
and I thank God for your priceless beauty-
for it is true He handed you to me like air...
In your atmosphere I feel poetic poignancy,
for when we exchange character in character trade,
you crochet finely knit words for my diet.
Your silence is musical; it's sweet to the ear
like pine needles blown by a calm breeze...
Every time you are away from me,
I pick-roses and peal them petal by petal,
chanting "you love me, you love me not,"
and this mysterious rose speculation-
thoroughly confirms your love for me...
By your side in our precious time;
I lay calm and comfy in ardent silence,
with no need to speak just to feel,
the delicate rose touch of your skin-
burn goosebumps on my rough hide.
Your love is a pool of serene water,
adorned with floating rose petals,
and I, I am sunk deep in your waters.
for your silence is in an elixir;
that which gives me back pieces-
of my mind from this troubled world.
Maria Rosa, la vie a las lit de roses,
when a thorn pricks you,
I'll be that mouse that saves your elephant heart.
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