Blissful Beauty Personified Poem by Mark Heathcote

I thought I heard your heart beating
like a hummingbird, tell me
my love, was I wrong, listening
was I wrong in melting like ghee?

For honey, your flower puts aside-
for one-just-as-voracious as me,
Paradise can't be quantified-
like flowers visited by a bee.

True love is an amber locket:
that preserves its contents always-
like, love written in a sonnet.
Your heart beats in pianofortes.

Trembles as newly lighted dew.
How could anybody know I'd?
Fall so deep and so fast for you,
blissful beauty personified.