She Is Sweeter By Measure Poem by Leslie Alexis

Today I walked into a flower shop; where
The flowers are too many to name,
Their sources, in the winter; the exotic lands;
Where sunshine fertilizes and nourishes
To pristine shines, and silky softness
These honeysuckles, tulips, and roses;
Things beautiful at best, and I was drawn;
For they served but to remind me of my love

Whose lips are like silk woven, red petals
And I, in drunken buzz, daily, long for them.
For on landing; the feel is that of cool waters
On sun parched lips, but sweeter by measure.
Or the way Adam must have felt when God
Breathed life into him, but sweeter by measure.
And the shape is like the hearts she makes
With her hands; which are the last pieces of
The puzzle to my own; making us complete.

Her eyes are deep green; like the leaves of a lily;
That are afloat on the calmest of waters, or
Emeralds immersed in freshly pulled milk.
Her body is like finely cut furniture; made by
A master-carpenter; chiseled from the cedars
Of the virgin forests of the great Amazon,
And polished with honeyed vanishes from the
Lands of Arabia... Upon her I place my gold,
And the most valued treasures of my heart;
For she has made the cobra bite himself,
But because of the woman; the venom
Became an elixir; that did not kill,
But gave him life, and determination
To bring completion to love.

Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis