Her mystery

Hot coals the pathway burn the feet
to bear the fire of cool reproach
for in the winters bleakness
a candle, that just flickers hope

As loves vultures circle high
your smile the talons that will grip
the desert of emotions parched and dry
lips like bows, the eye transfixed

I, the prospector, with a pan of dreams
 a shining nougat glints within my grasp
in the grit and stones between
you are the prise, together bonded fast

Prospecting, streams the pulse
words of passion, a prisoner paroled,
released. Expression just to leap and vault,
escaped. Your beauty to extol