she is the golden starlight
that breaks the earth
as narcissi in the early spring
the bleeding hearts
of whitsun roses
peonies red in summer’s dawn
she is the moist verdant caress
the clinging moss bright
on autumn beech bark
and the afternoon sunlight
silver shafts of beauty blinding
on frozen lakes
as the year gives way
to new tomorrows.

she is the palette
from which is painted
my passions.