Joined: 11 Mar 2009
Her beauty was admired in the Garden of God's People,
I wanted to caress this flower,
I wanted to trace my finger around her petals,
To take them between my fingers and pinch them,
I wanted to bring her sweetness close,
And drink in her fragrance.
Would this blossom let me in?
For so long now she had guarded against all suitors,
Neither the wealth of sun nor the persistence of rain,
Had caused her to open to them,
They could grasp her stem, they could gaze at her beauty,
But only I had discovered her secret.
That deep inside the soft exterior was a Love like nectar,
So sweet and so full,
Waiting to be shared, Longing to be taken,
And hoping to be loved in no less than equal measure,
A simple desire.
Which could be fulfilled by just the right hands,
She could not be uprooted. She could not be taken,
From the soil of her life to be placed in a crystal vase,
Or set upon a pedestal only to be stared at,
Kept confined in a glassy prison,
While slowly she wilted.
No if she was to thrive she would have to be nurtured,
To be loved in return for her love,
To be left to her nature and self-reliance,
She needed protection from the oppressive cold,
Water of encouragement and the airy freedom,
To grow in her own way.
But mostly what she needed was love,
And I wanted so much to give her that,
She was a treasure in the Garden,
And if I could share of her nectar,
No other passion would be as sweet.
And when she let these loving hands,
Penetrate into the deepest recesses of her soul,
There would be no closer intimacy,
As when I touched her with my love,
So that finally in all her days in the Garden,
She knew what it was like to be loved,
From the inside.
(1997, Revised 199