Love

You are in the garden, 
the garden of my soul, 
that fresh and green inviting space 
where I go to seek control, 
your face an open sunflower 
that greets the summer’s rays, 
your smile like a red, red rose 
that brightens the blackest days, 
in times past when we were young 
and the flowers all were wild 
we might roll amongst them, 
each of us again a child, 
but the years led us to know the subtle scent 
of spring’s sweet peas and alyssum 
as waning was the abiding desire 
for our bodies so budding then and lissome. 
and now when times seem dark 
I let loose my mind to take me back 
to that garden of my soul and you 
and for nothing shall I ever feel the lack.

The Garden of My Soul