‘Do you love butter?’ She muses idly,
leaning lazily over in the grass
towards the little yellow flowers.
She picks the perfect bloom
reaches forward to where he rests
holding the dainty cup under his chin.
He sighs, but does not open his eyes
smiling at her childlike delight.
She watches as his stubble shadow
glows golden in reflection of her bloom.
Then brushes a pollen kiss against his lips
whispering the bare breeze into his ears
‘make love to me in this meadow please.’
Amid the constant chatter of crying birds
beneath a steady drone of working bees
warmed by the naked summer sunshine
A flotilla of butterflies set sail and rise.
*A poem dedicated to my darling husband Neil on the 4th anniversary of our marriage, on Midsummer’s day, saying it with flowers*
**picture is kindly shared courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/dgeezer/ with thanks