Yearning

I hear the blackbirds

call for their mother

let it flow in the air,

not dry, dead, a lifeless fanfare;

like the caramel-kissed leaves

that wail beneath my feet

crunch, crunch; 

crackle in a bunch.

Let me taste the smoke in the atmosphere

forget its evil source

that slaughters life...

life so nectarous... is it worth it really

when fire burns what was life

and turns it fragile, grey, easily dismemberable

On my tongue I taste

the freckles of hope

a pin cushion's dream, prickles seduced

like the blades of grass

that cut through the dirt;

yet I yearn...

there is nothing like

her soft, sweet scented...

wet

against hard, rainfall against 

solid erect mountain

gushing wet, white submission

down a crooked waterfall

Let me see her,

the source of a toffee seized glow

a mid-Autumn's glow
with the tinge

of a rose-ridden sexy flow

"Hello," she says
a Magnolia's perfect blossom
Beige, pink, passionate plush

as I surrender

and petals fall.