I seat myself
at my yellow-wooded desk
and let my thoughts seep
into the essence of all you are,
and your thoughts,
into the core of me,
and I smile my adoration
in contentment
not knowing what will birth
and straightways
you envelop my heart and hands
in quiver-song
and, under your treasured caress,
like the colours
that flood a rainbow,
my poems flow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem