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What is my favorite flower

to smell?

Your hair, of course

thick and dark

sweet and full of life

kissing my nose

with innocence and honesty.

Where is my favorite place on the shore

overlooking the ocean

deep and wide?

Before your eyes, without a doubt;

allowing my ship

to be carried away

by the ever-beckoning

rhythmic pulling

of emotion.

Which is my favorite light of day:

the cool diamond light

of the gibbous moon

by the fireside

where fairies

dance to the beat of drums?

Or the sparkle of buttery

sunshine smiling through

the dew on a

spider web on a branch

by a river?

Both are lovely,

but, when viewed

with You,

made a thousand times

lovelier

by light of your Glow.

Of what does the sound

of my favorite birdsong

remind me?

The sweet, gentle drawl

of your tabacco-soaked

voice

as you tell me your story

through softly snarling lips.

In the crook of what tree

would I love to sit

to read all day

and sing Love's songs

to the shade of the branches

overhead?

In the bend of your arm

and the curve of your waist

is where I find

the most comfortable

patch of bark.

What is my favorite

hill

to climb

and look out over

the forest below?

The slope of your

right eyebrow

must be, by far

the most delightful

to my eyes and feet.

And where is the key

that unlocks the gate

to this glorious paradise

where the seeds of my dreams

are planted and nurtured?

Well I'll tell you alone

that I've put it away

in the most silent

and sacred

place in my heart

in a wooden box

with flowers on the top.