Plum tree with a thousand bees
honeymoon of bliss and flowers
little winds of petals blowing round
in a blaze of spring, pink and cherry red
diaphanous and dewy on the ground.
I drown in the succulence of your lips, I kiss
drinking deep in wildflower meadows.
The sun it melts the cold to spring
and in the morning we watch cheery birds
flit and hop upon the lawn
amid the daffodil yellows.