Among the lavender sweet where
Sperry and golden buttercup grew
Grass matted with daisy chain
Blanket, wine, cheeks blushing anew
Face, a study in thought
Ocean blue eyes, slate and steel
Lips part minimally, wet
To be in your presence is to feel
Return to sketch, pencil softened
Your fingers smudge the lead
It is the best of times just to sit
Pictures drawn and poetry read
Dark majesty of clouds holding court
Sand scattered across the azure, blanketing
Feel the air, the spit of rain
Inside is warm, outside is real, burgeoning
Phosphor and the first embers of kindling
Tense, filling the air; just-so buttered toast
Thick cuts of raspberry jam hewn part
We struggle through; the snow our host
Winter love and summer infatuation
Autumn changing and spring eternal
Life is good for the old people
Remembering when girl met boy met girl
We move apart once more
Returning to our own activity and thought
Content to be as one as two
Inseparable forever, willingly caught
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem