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Inspired by Keats, my love of nature, true beauty and self.

Emotions rise,
break the surface,
ready to open
a hidden flower.
Beautiful but noxious,
breathing and sighing,
I leap upward
toward your love.

Releasing the coiled tendrils;
I grasp and drink
the succulent dew
beneath tender leaves,
down to the firming few,
prompt to reply
to your radiant eminence.

Unfurling across the bed,
I see you cast to the wind
your chemical pestilence
and wither my friends
among the dutiful league.

Blistered white skin,
tissue drooping thin,
numbs the loving eyes
that clutch the spade
with haste to remove
this garden waste.

But under your thumb
an infant sprout
belies the dead,
certain to win
your love again.