My dear Emily, how your thoughts
Sweep my soul, rush full of passion
And dust, longing for consummation of
Thoughtless lust bound by ropes
Found mysterious. O how we struggle
To seek the symphony, ever longing,
Hoping our lenses unique and strong
To deliver the truths others find wrong.
O Emily, how your presence knows no
Bounds, and fills me, brimming and
Spilling as you sleep- dreaming our
Moment’s eyes to meet doth my soul
Do weep with images of your iris’s
O most bodiful muse, how you must be
Fueled, breathing the storm of this moment,
As the leaf branches beckon, swaying
Stormed outside my window.
Mother Nature flushes winds as feelings
To force my own, but this fearful hurricane
Is puddle by your pure and unmatched
Monsoon of genius stride that you live
Abide, sweeping much deeper foundations
Than the roots of my forest outside.