Face up in a Perfumed Bottling of Nature's Best

Face up in a perfume bottle of nature's best.

That summer day I flopped belly up

in a lush bed of velvety grass

in the cow pasture

that makes up my two acres

with no mule included.

Sprawled amidst the dandelions

in a carefully structured way

so as not to crush their brightness.

They are one of flower-doms

most misunderstood creations,

I have tasted of

and grown giddy on

their sweet nectar wines

and I have masticulated

their most fragrant greens

with a side of steak

and baked potato.

I 've also sometimes determined

quite unscientifically

just how many of 

my friends liked butter

on sunny-side up days

in my youth 

and I brought many smiles

to my dearest departed mother

years ago when I brought her

handfuls of these dandy-cats

mixed with pussy willows

to pay tribute

to her tender love.
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Near my reposing head

the daffodils and tulips

exude their sweet

intoxicating fragrances

over the green bodies

of the dozing crocuses.

Bees took target practice

at the colors on my shirt,

while the scent of a 

freshly baked apple pie

squatted on a windowsill,

becoming a temptress

to my taste buds,

so that they seemed to blossom

like the flowers around me

in hungry spurts.

The sun bathed my flesh

like a face mask of warm mud.

I was absorbed in the soil

and feared I might soon grow roots

all work and any attempts to try to work

were totally out of the question

as I vegetated that day away
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But then another flower

suddenly into my life intruded.

His blue eyes peering over

the hedge of my hair.

His smile so much brighter

then the sun, moon and stars.

as his tiny fingers

wound like ivy

through the calloused roots

of my hand.

His musical sing-song voice

bekoning me away

to play amidst the puffs

and yellow lion heads.

He was my five year old perrenial

that bloomed from a tiny seed

I had planted with deep love

and tender nurture,

in a place that brought forth

fruit so rare and magical,

that I watered it with tears

of wondrous gratitude.
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So I rose to tumble with him

back into the lands of pooh

for I am his big bear,

and he's my honey.

To him I'll be forever true

we are married to our children

when we bring their souls to life.

There is no force on earth

that can render, rip or tear

me from his loving.

 
It is eternal...unchanging.

Rakes of hatred,

droughts of passion,

rains of sorrow,

fires of anger,

cloudiest days,

and bitter seasons

will not wither me

nor move me,

from this garden 

of my angel

where we'll 

bloom forevermore.