Poetry competition CLOSED 17th August 2023 5:00am
Happiness?
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
For me, "happiness" is one of the most difficult, frustrating, misleading, culturally religiously- class--caste--socio-economically- laden, etc... Mindfucks of a concept and apparent aspirational goal I've been confronted with. So... Write about it, poets
I've got no rules in here,
One-by-one we're facing fears,
Throwing yokes, relieving hearts
And greasing gears...
Only rule:
A poem from 1-50 lines* in length about or around the notion of happiness as you situate and understand it. It can be:
--A definition
--a critique
--a rejection
--an ode
--a eulogy
-an experience
--hymn, lament
What the fuck ever. But a poem.
And while I probably have hinted a bit about my own ambivalence, when I put my judge's wig on I'm as objective as the true definition of our subject. Ha. Ha.
*LINE in the context of length rule is taken to mean the space DUP gives for a line in their submission field. Loophole seeking shenanigans such as using forward slashes or other shorthand will not pass the gate. So tighten up!
And as always, be as happy as you want to be
One-by-one we're facing fears,
Throwing yokes, relieving hearts
And greasing gears...
Only rule:
A poem from 1-50 lines* in length about or around the notion of happiness as you situate and understand it. It can be:
--A definition
--a critique
--a rejection
--an ode
--a eulogy
-an experience
--hymn, lament
What the fuck ever. But a poem.
And while I probably have hinted a bit about my own ambivalence, when I put my judge's wig on I'm as objective as the true definition of our subject. Ha. Ha.
*LINE in the context of length rule is taken to mean the space DUP gives for a line in their submission field. Loophole seeking shenanigans such as using forward slashes or other shorthand will not pass the gate. So tighten up!
And as always, be as happy as you want to be
Anonymous
Happiness
Why would you think about relishing?
The relish is the most high perception of all.
A relish is upper. a relish is elated,
a relish is eminent, however.
I saw the quick satisfaction destroyed,
How I mourned the final fulfilment.
A final fulfilment is immediate.
A final fulfilment is fast however.
The fool happiness that's really empty,
Above all others is the gentle gladness.
Grateful and genuine gentle gladness.
Never forget the hungry gentle gladness.
All that is little is not future felicity,
future felicity by all account is big.
Are you upset by how life-sized it is?
You see the future felicity so prominent?
Just like a walk is the jubilation.
Down into the darkness of the jubilation,
gently it goes - the sensationalistic,
the lily-livered, the dishonourable.
The lousy luck is not staccato!
The lousy luck is exceptionally silken.
Does the lousy sadness make you shiver?
Does it really make you quiver?
Anonymous
Nexus
you enter our
bed whisper-light
and mold yourself
to my back
in half sleep
i toy with
your arm hair
and nestle into
my haven
the nexus between
dreams and reality
with you is so blurred
that i no longer
ruminate over
such petty details
for you are
all of my dreams
bed whisper-light
and mold yourself
to my back
in half sleep
i toy with
your arm hair
and nestle into
my haven
the nexus between
dreams and reality
with you is so blurred
that i no longer
ruminate over
such petty details
for you are
all of my dreams
Anonymous
On Finding My Feet --
Past Happiness in a Changed Direction
*
To find myself, I looked away above the chimney top,
behind the clouds, beyond the moon, and even past the sun,
till whirling to each fiery eye and twinkling starry stop,
I dropped here on this flat expanse to find myself undone --
my being somewhere this side of a technicolored dream,
the landscape black and white of wicked twisters loose and wild,
the little fledgling fallen from the nest the bird's-eye theme,
the cradle in the treetop tipped by lullabies beguiled --
and as I peered across my own backyard along the plain,
my value rounded me to meet the cyclone's coming pain.
*
*
To find myself, I looked away above the chimney top,
behind the clouds, beyond the moon, and even past the sun,
till whirling to each fiery eye and twinkling starry stop,
I dropped here on this flat expanse to find myself undone --
my being somewhere this side of a technicolored dream,
the landscape black and white of wicked twisters loose and wild,
the little fledgling fallen from the nest the bird's-eye theme,
the cradle in the treetop tipped by lullabies beguiled --
and as I peered across my own backyard along the plain,
my value rounded me to meet the cyclone's coming pain.
*
Anonymous
... it's about strength in choices, hard labour and really good coffee (+Reading)
Anonymous
an innocent crush
she saw me
and I saw her
I smiled and
saw the giggle in her
I was sitting across her
watching how the thin air
mess her hair
our blushed eyes met
each other in turns
as she put the hair
behind her ears
the smell of the fresh green
as we pass the fields
and I fly into her eyes
lost in my dreams with her
then again,
I search for her eyes
her sparkling eyes
painted a blush
on our faces
my teenage heart
proposed to her
in the next station
I married her
on a beach
then I searched
for her eyes
and I saw her,
walking slowly
on the platform
as I slowly
passed her
I never
saw her again.
but still,
those eyes...
paint a blush
on my face
Anonymous
Happiness (22)
Certainly insecure
But with a nudge from her friend
Martha submitted a few of her sketches
To a fashion contest
And won first prize for that superb design
Of a dress.
But with a nudge from her friend
Martha submitted a few of her sketches
To a fashion contest
And won first prize for that superb design
Of a dress.
Anonymous
The Sun Has Returned
The sun has returned
I welcome its light and warmth
My heart melts at the life that came from me, and invigorates me
My house is now a home again
A part of my soul has been extended into other beings of light
Is… is this a dream?
I never thought I’d feel so… complete
Blissful, content, alive…
The sun has returned, and I’m eager to bask in its light.
I welcome its light and warmth
My heart melts at the life that came from me, and invigorates me
My house is now a home again
A part of my soul has been extended into other beings of light
Is… is this a dream?
I never thought I’d feel so… complete
Blissful, content, alive…
The sun has returned, and I’m eager to bask in its light.
Anonymous
Nothing
Ice cream in the morning, and
ocean waves, cycling--
every fifth one, is the biggest
today.
Pasts have burned away, like
an ugly flesh
peeled
and tossed into fiery bushes of God--
see?
It is done, finished
"Abba, Father!"
And nothing harms me anymore
the way it did.
There are just lawns to mow, gardens
to tend--
how many flowers can I possibly fit
in the beds?
But then, there's the heart--
it is content
whether I open it or not.
There is nothing left
to worry about, at
this moment.
Happiness is nothing
and it is everything
all in one, cycling
like the waves--
another bite of ice cream
and I think big thoughts
of all my grand tomorrows.
ocean waves, cycling--
every fifth one, is the biggest
today.
Pasts have burned away, like
an ugly flesh
peeled
and tossed into fiery bushes of God--
see?
It is done, finished
"Abba, Father!"
And nothing harms me anymore
the way it did.
There are just lawns to mow, gardens
to tend--
how many flowers can I possibly fit
in the beds?
But then, there's the heart--
it is content
whether I open it or not.
There is nothing left
to worry about, at
this moment.
Happiness is nothing
and it is everything
all in one, cycling
like the waves--
another bite of ice cream
and I think big thoughts
of all my grand tomorrows.
Anonymous
HAPPINESS PARTY
I was drowning in my miseries
You came to my rescue
Helped me stand on my feet again
Then you signed me in
To this happiness club
You invited me the party
The Happiness party
I gladly showed up
Rolled in the luxury pool
And i blended in this new lifestyle
Always smiling while taking to you
Always laughing at your witty jokes
Walking in the confidence you gave me
The love bites you fed me
Made me glow more
You stuffed butterflies in my tummy
They danced in ecstacy
At your command
You programmed my mind
And placed yourself at the epicentre
I think of you most
Your scent won't leave my nose
The kisses won't leave my lips
The cuddles won't leave my arms
The laughter reverberates in my mind
The love is overflowing in my heart
A reservoir is needed
For this excess love you bless me with
The wings you plugged in me
Takes me to places i never wish to leave
Dont wake me from this dream
You came to my rescue
Helped me stand on my feet again
Then you signed me in
To this happiness club
You invited me the party
The Happiness party
I gladly showed up
Rolled in the luxury pool
And i blended in this new lifestyle
Always smiling while taking to you
Always laughing at your witty jokes
Walking in the confidence you gave me
The love bites you fed me
Made me glow more
You stuffed butterflies in my tummy
They danced in ecstacy
At your command
You programmed my mind
And placed yourself at the epicentre
I think of you most
Your scent won't leave my nose
The kisses won't leave my lips
The cuddles won't leave my arms
The laughter reverberates in my mind
The love is overflowing in my heart
A reservoir is needed
For this excess love you bless me with
The wings you plugged in me
Takes me to places i never wish to leave
Dont wake me from this dream
Anonymous
HIGH AND LOW
this is what there is, my friend,
day to day from start to end
the shit is bound to hit the blade
and new get old, and brightness fade
it's joy and woe and bliss and strife
that we can all expect from life
endless bliss is just a pitch
you'll never live to catch that bitch
the midas touch, the perfect kiss
they come and go, it's hit and miss
and always when the seasons change
these flowers wilt and rearrange
yet just this truth can get one through
when things go bad, as things will do
wise folk keep this promise nigh --
there is no low without its high --
and likewise when the blessings flow
there is no high without its low
day to day from start to end
the shit is bound to hit the blade
and new get old, and brightness fade
it's joy and woe and bliss and strife
that we can all expect from life
endless bliss is just a pitch
you'll never live to catch that bitch
the midas touch, the perfect kiss
they come and go, it's hit and miss
and always when the seasons change
these flowers wilt and rearrange
yet just this truth can get one through
when things go bad, as things will do
wise folk keep this promise nigh --
there is no low without its high --
and likewise when the blessings flow
there is no high without its low
Anonymous
Happier Poetry
i want to write happier poetry
i long for my mind to rest at ease
i need to find the light in life
i yearn to be happy
i thirst for a reason to smile
i crave an airy thought
i hunger for closure
for a while I have sought
this
i cannot justify writing happier poetry
when in 6, I feel unsure
when in 1, I’ll feel pain
at none, nothing at all
so far yet not really far at all
2 turns to 1, turns to none
8 down the drain,
no certificate of time
I can’t even complain,
when it wasn’t even mine
not mine to hold,
but yours to share
not mine to love,
but yours to care for
not mine to own,
but yours to beat
not mine to stare at, to find comfort in,
to laugh at, to mess about with, to enjoy,
to find any reason not to cry about,
to love, to cherish, to love, to embellish
the minority i have left, to love, to know,
to even get close to knowing
when in 6, I feel pain
when in 1, it won’t go
at none, I’ll feel nothing
but lost, with no hope
i won’t have my consistent
my one reliable source
my one predictable outcome
your one spark of freedom
ill be left
to fend for myself
because at 1
fate has already been dealt.
i long for my mind to rest at ease
i need to find the light in life
i yearn to be happy
i thirst for a reason to smile
i crave an airy thought
i hunger for closure
for a while I have sought
this
i cannot justify writing happier poetry
when in 6, I feel unsure
when in 1, I’ll feel pain
at none, nothing at all
so far yet not really far at all
2 turns to 1, turns to none
8 down the drain,
no certificate of time
I can’t even complain,
when it wasn’t even mine
not mine to hold,
but yours to share
not mine to love,
but yours to care for
not mine to own,
but yours to beat
not mine to stare at, to find comfort in,
to laugh at, to mess about with, to enjoy,
to find any reason not to cry about,
to love, to cherish, to love, to embellish
the minority i have left, to love, to know,
to even get close to knowing
when in 6, I feel pain
when in 1, it won’t go
at none, I’ll feel nothing
but lost, with no hope
i won’t have my consistent
my one reliable source
my one predictable outcome
your one spark of freedom
ill be left
to fend for myself
because at 1
fate has already been dealt.
Anonymous
A Childlike Muse
- A Childlike Muse -
So many muses some may have, angelic and divine in their faces and forms,
In guises grand, delightful as are the myriad nymphs out of the ancient tales!
But why seek some remote goddess who is haughty or vain, of spiteful way?
Her manner is less pleasing than her face, and in the end she will reign alone.
My heart is stirred by a deeper beauty, one that weathers life's many storms...
Innocence balanced by a precocious sort of zest for life which so never pales,
Because it is something eternal, like the sun when it rises for each fresh day.
Should I describe my ideal of feminine grace, compare it to starlight as shone,
Down from the heavens into my heart, stabbing me with cupid's painful arrow?
With pleasurable agony, which is deeper than flesh or sinew, beyond marrow...
Reaching the core of me, where few eyes see what idolatry I commit for love.
She is not like others, she is not the ideal queen or princess out of old stories,
Her heart is young, her spirit is bright, her mind is filled with vibrant dreams.
She listens to the stories I tell, enraptured and spellbound by deeper magics...
Though I am older in body, she sees the youth within my soul, understanding.
She loves to dance, to sing, to share quiet moments as we confess our worries,
And in her eyes is a sparkle, never dimmed by the river of maturity's streams.
She hears me speak of my childhood, and of the things that made it so tragic...
Whilst she calms the storms within me, with a gaze that is so comprehending!
Her voice is filled with compassion, more of music than any dove or sparrow.
She tells me stories of her own, and I am lost in them, forgetting each sorrow!
She reaches the core of me, where few eyes see my visions of heavens above.
She does not wear jeans or sloppy shirts, those are not for a girl such as her,
Preferring as she does a dress more Victorian, with ribbons and lace pretty...
Shoes fit for a doll, adorn her feet, or sandals or slippers when she chooses.
Cute pigtails frame her sweet face, with its' smile to put any cherub to shame!
Her eyelashes long, batting innocently when she looks at me as we do confer,
To whisper, of things only we understand, of what fills us with joy aplenty...
I see the rainbows and the sparkle in her spirit, in that dearest of any muses.
She hides within, the darker dreams, of Gothic glories and forbidden flame!
Perfect is her darkness, because it is balanced by her childlike sense of self.
Ideal to me is she, because like her my shadows are filled with bright wealth,
Which keep me dreaming of flowery gardens and unicorns, and also faeries.
Some may think her peculiar, but to me such a girl is of a spirit I find right,
Fair and wondrous, even in her occasional madness, which all of us possess.
She puts on her pale makeup, black lipstick or blood red, eyeliner to match...
When in contrast to her childlike nature, she so indulges in her darkest side!
Sweet child of the darkness, the moon is less than you despite its' pale light.
You are divine in your perfection, and inspired in your every choice of dress.
Though adult be your age, you still look like the child you remain, as such...
Never losing what others cast aside, within your soul where love does abide.
Let them call you mad, as in our mutual insanity we will drink to our health,
To me you are the ideal muse, more perfect than any faerie lady or noble elf!
Such as this to me is bliss Elysian, as she embraces an eternal child's dignity.
Let them call it wicked what we do, or strange in ways not oft in fashion,
Claiming it be born of an inherent aberration or some kind of perversity...
That makes you see yourself as still a little girl, in need of deepest caring!
Inside I am a child also, adult in body only, and so we will play together.
I will care for you and love you, all of you, the adult with all my passion,
And, the child that you also are, with a reverence as one has for divinity...
For such is the greatest gift I can grant to one I do find beyond endearing!
And when you seek such, I shall be to you as needed a mother and father.
People cannot understand our condition, they claim it is all in our heads,
But it comes from our spirits, our souls, and dispels in us so much dread!
If this be lunacy, then madness we shall embrace as a part of our destiny.
I see you with your dolls, and I remember when I used to play with mine,
We sit on the floor together, you look so happy as you laugh and giggle...
It makes me love you all the more, because this is what I always wanted!
A childhood that never needs to end, even when we embrace as lovers do.
You are better than any princess to me, a child goddess so fairly sublime,
And, whenever I am with you, I can let go of past hurts and old struggles.
Let us fully indulge in the childhood we never had, new dreams invented,
By our boundless imagination, which can make all our desires come true.
So many dead eyes exist in the faces of many who grow up in this world,
But ours are filled with myriad delights more pure than a precious pearl!
So, now you know how I define what I consider to be the truest beauty...
One that is free to be itself, to act as its' dreams inspire it to ever follow,
Such a one is, even in its' imperfections, the most flawless girl who lives.
I would never change a thing about her, never tell her to grow up either...
We are as we are meant to be, and so I see in her the face of my paradise.
If we choose to play through our weekend days, dancing till the morrow,
Laughing freely, loving deeply, singing with a zeal for being truly alive...
Then I am content at day's end, and in our life together find real pleasure.
No goddess could grant me such a gift, only this child so sweet and nice!
Is her adult side seducing me with promises of forbidden lusty evenings?
I am happy to be seduced, by her starlit eyes and their secret gleamings...
Carried away in dark fantasies, woven of shadows and the stuff of night.
As fair are these, of her design, as any sunlit meadows or pixie palaces,
More delicious than gingerbread at Christmastime, or the first snowfall.
Every holiday is her delight, each star in the sky is to her an angel's eye,
And in this we are alike, and with such as she I can be as I was intended.
Not perfect, but perfectly happy and content to know all of love's graces,
To join in her dancing and singing, to skip about with her and never fall.
There is so much that adults forsake, so many joys that they may deny...
But with my childlike muse I am content, with her my pains so mended.
No bards have sung of such a one as she, and so I raise my voice herein,
To celebrate my muse and so immortalize her, if only to make her grin!
Her happiness is to me infectious and welcome, the source of all delight.
So many muses some may have, angelic and divine in their faces and forms,
In guises grand, delightful as are the myriad nymphs out of the ancient tales!
But why seek some remote goddess who is haughty or vain, of spiteful way?
Her manner is less pleasing than her face, and in the end she will reign alone.
My heart is stirred by a deeper beauty, one that weathers life's many storms...
Innocence balanced by a precocious sort of zest for life which so never pales,
Because it is something eternal, like the sun when it rises for each fresh day.
Should I describe my ideal of feminine grace, compare it to starlight as shone,
Down from the heavens into my heart, stabbing me with cupid's painful arrow?
With pleasurable agony, which is deeper than flesh or sinew, beyond marrow...
Reaching the core of me, where few eyes see what idolatry I commit for love.
She is not like others, she is not the ideal queen or princess out of old stories,
Her heart is young, her spirit is bright, her mind is filled with vibrant dreams.
She listens to the stories I tell, enraptured and spellbound by deeper magics...
Though I am older in body, she sees the youth within my soul, understanding.
She loves to dance, to sing, to share quiet moments as we confess our worries,
And in her eyes is a sparkle, never dimmed by the river of maturity's streams.
She hears me speak of my childhood, and of the things that made it so tragic...
Whilst she calms the storms within me, with a gaze that is so comprehending!
Her voice is filled with compassion, more of music than any dove or sparrow.
She tells me stories of her own, and I am lost in them, forgetting each sorrow!
She reaches the core of me, where few eyes see my visions of heavens above.
She does not wear jeans or sloppy shirts, those are not for a girl such as her,
Preferring as she does a dress more Victorian, with ribbons and lace pretty...
Shoes fit for a doll, adorn her feet, or sandals or slippers when she chooses.
Cute pigtails frame her sweet face, with its' smile to put any cherub to shame!
Her eyelashes long, batting innocently when she looks at me as we do confer,
To whisper, of things only we understand, of what fills us with joy aplenty...
I see the rainbows and the sparkle in her spirit, in that dearest of any muses.
She hides within, the darker dreams, of Gothic glories and forbidden flame!
Perfect is her darkness, because it is balanced by her childlike sense of self.
Ideal to me is she, because like her my shadows are filled with bright wealth,
Which keep me dreaming of flowery gardens and unicorns, and also faeries.
Some may think her peculiar, but to me such a girl is of a spirit I find right,
Fair and wondrous, even in her occasional madness, which all of us possess.
She puts on her pale makeup, black lipstick or blood red, eyeliner to match...
When in contrast to her childlike nature, she so indulges in her darkest side!
Sweet child of the darkness, the moon is less than you despite its' pale light.
You are divine in your perfection, and inspired in your every choice of dress.
Though adult be your age, you still look like the child you remain, as such...
Never losing what others cast aside, within your soul where love does abide.
Let them call you mad, as in our mutual insanity we will drink to our health,
To me you are the ideal muse, more perfect than any faerie lady or noble elf!
Such as this to me is bliss Elysian, as she embraces an eternal child's dignity.
Let them call it wicked what we do, or strange in ways not oft in fashion,
Claiming it be born of an inherent aberration or some kind of perversity...
That makes you see yourself as still a little girl, in need of deepest caring!
Inside I am a child also, adult in body only, and so we will play together.
I will care for you and love you, all of you, the adult with all my passion,
And, the child that you also are, with a reverence as one has for divinity...
For such is the greatest gift I can grant to one I do find beyond endearing!
And when you seek such, I shall be to you as needed a mother and father.
People cannot understand our condition, they claim it is all in our heads,
But it comes from our spirits, our souls, and dispels in us so much dread!
If this be lunacy, then madness we shall embrace as a part of our destiny.
I see you with your dolls, and I remember when I used to play with mine,
We sit on the floor together, you look so happy as you laugh and giggle...
It makes me love you all the more, because this is what I always wanted!
A childhood that never needs to end, even when we embrace as lovers do.
You are better than any princess to me, a child goddess so fairly sublime,
And, whenever I am with you, I can let go of past hurts and old struggles.
Let us fully indulge in the childhood we never had, new dreams invented,
By our boundless imagination, which can make all our desires come true.
So many dead eyes exist in the faces of many who grow up in this world,
But ours are filled with myriad delights more pure than a precious pearl!
So, now you know how I define what I consider to be the truest beauty...
One that is free to be itself, to act as its' dreams inspire it to ever follow,
Such a one is, even in its' imperfections, the most flawless girl who lives.
I would never change a thing about her, never tell her to grow up either...
We are as we are meant to be, and so I see in her the face of my paradise.
If we choose to play through our weekend days, dancing till the morrow,
Laughing freely, loving deeply, singing with a zeal for being truly alive...
Then I am content at day's end, and in our life together find real pleasure.
No goddess could grant me such a gift, only this child so sweet and nice!
Is her adult side seducing me with promises of forbidden lusty evenings?
I am happy to be seduced, by her starlit eyes and their secret gleamings...
Carried away in dark fantasies, woven of shadows and the stuff of night.
As fair are these, of her design, as any sunlit meadows or pixie palaces,
More delicious than gingerbread at Christmastime, or the first snowfall.
Every holiday is her delight, each star in the sky is to her an angel's eye,
And in this we are alike, and with such as she I can be as I was intended.
Not perfect, but perfectly happy and content to know all of love's graces,
To join in her dancing and singing, to skip about with her and never fall.
There is so much that adults forsake, so many joys that they may deny...
But with my childlike muse I am content, with her my pains so mended.
No bards have sung of such a one as she, and so I raise my voice herein,
To celebrate my muse and so immortalize her, if only to make her grin!
Her happiness is to me infectious and welcome, the source of all delight.
Anonymous
Happiness Q.E.D.
illusive; a prospector panning in a Klondike stream
setting up camp in the baren hills
with riches, his expectations.
Its fickle capriciousness, a mirage
that evaporates, the realisation of it
slipping through your fingers.
It hides in public view, like an unpolished jewel
an ambiguity, it sings in tune, but distorted notes fill our ears.
Its there in the bustle and clatter.
As the artist sketches, capturing an essence
with a few strokes, relationships the colours
friendships the outline
The opportunity to plant our own wildflower meadow
industry of ants, work ethic of a bee, calming hum of insects,
a twitteration of birds, the beautiful randomness of butterflies.
Xanadu is there in reach for each
Rest, let the warm wind brush your hair
feel the sandy shore beneath your toes
lapping waves wash up your calves.
epicure to feed your soul
setting up camp in the baren hills
with riches, his expectations.
Its fickle capriciousness, a mirage
that evaporates, the realisation of it
slipping through your fingers.
It hides in public view, like an unpolished jewel
an ambiguity, it sings in tune, but distorted notes fill our ears.
Its there in the bustle and clatter.
As the artist sketches, capturing an essence
with a few strokes, relationships the colours
friendships the outline
The opportunity to plant our own wildflower meadow
industry of ants, work ethic of a bee, calming hum of insects,
a twitteration of birds, the beautiful randomness of butterflies.
Xanadu is there in reach for each
Rest, let the warm wind brush your hair
feel the sandy shore beneath your toes
lapping waves wash up your calves.
epicure to feed your soul
Anonymous
The there's... there.
There's softness
life giving warmth
of heated smooth curves
where desire flickers and sparks
There's wit
intertwined with gold
and silver tongued laughs
beguiling intrigue in mischievous claps
There's worldliness
knowledge begets rapture
enlightened strikes of wisdom
piqued arousal doth capture
There's strength
rare seeds of palpable brawn
that carry her through
from dusk until light breaking dawn
There's confidence
belief oozing from each sacred space
fortified with gumption
epitomizing a wealthy sensual grace
There's independence
forging an elegant path
sufficient in self trust
wanting not needing that wrath
There's compassion
building up, seeking connections
cultivating empathic minds
makes for real and loving affections
There's sexuality
basking in all truths
unafraid to discover
from blossom to roots
To sample to taste
traversing the journey
exploring these facets
so many are worthy
She's much and many
a force all her own
intricate and complex
she grows there ... until grown.
