She Tasted Of Ripe Apple's Poem by James McLain

She tasted like honey, like apples ripe,
A sweetness that lingered in the night's sweet light.
With every breath, I drank her soul,
And found in her touch, I was made whole.

She tasted of sugar, a kiss in the breeze,
The flutter of wings in the tallest of trees.
She brought the sun when my skies were gray,
And melted the frost that clouded my way.

Like rainwater pure, she rushed through my veins,
Washing away all my sorrows and pains.
Her laughter, like rivers, ran wild and free,
A soft, soothing current that carried me.

She smelled of the earth, of green fields wide,
Of wildflowers blooming in places that hide.
Her scent was the dawn breaking through night,
A breeze full of promises taking flight.

She came like the spring after winters long,
A melody whispered, a forgotten song.
Her presence, a whisper, both soft and strong—
I was home in her arms where I belong.

And when she was near, the world would glow,
With her breath like the wind's sweet ebb and flow.
She tasted like honey, her spirit divine,
In her touch, I was hers, and she was mine.