Lynn Pinkerton

When you came to me
you were like
red wine and warm honey
spreading slowly over me with morning promise
lingering long and lovely.
Your touch burned through my gasping logic,
searing a path into my wintry soul.
As fresh passion flooded my gates,
I ate ravenously at your sumptuous altar
and the taste of you burnt my mouth with yearning.

Now you come to me like
cool water and summer berries,
caressing my palette with tenderness and comfort.
Mid-day heat rises up steaming and drowsy
longing for a shaded napping place,
as we slowly shadow into evening
and sunsets chase one another into the distance.
Smoldering embers curl up contentedly
as I feast deeply on your familiar offerings
and discover myself complete and satisfied.