I love you on crisp Autumn mornings
when the trees are drunk on dew
and the leaves blush scarlet
gracefully.
I love you when you are a ballad
on someone else's lips
and you echo
long after the song has been sung.
Weeks with you
are a toast of Tuesdays;
warm and honey burnt.
The ochre trimmed Mondays yield sleepily
and Wednesday is a muse in Thursday's mind.
I love you when the frail clouds
embrace the happy sky and an
afternoon is best spent
with a tea cup and marigold.
When you smile, sunflowers bloom and when you cry
the rivers rage.
I love you with the wantonness of time - eternally.