Ethiopia

A friend challenged me to write a sestina with the words apple, notebook, Ethiopia, elope, and candle. So I did.

I think about the taste of your apples.
My tongue swells up, feels like a marshmallow.
I think someday, together, we'll elope.
There will be many white burning candles.
Then we'll set sail to Ethiopia.
There, I will write our love in my notebook.

Nothing is more precious than my notebook,
to me. To you, precious are your apples.
Our daughter comes from Ethiopia.
Her skin is dark, night. Ours, like marshmallows.
Your eyes reflect the flickering candles,
and I know it was right that we eloped.

My parents hated us, so we eloped.
I carry our hearts in my full notebook,
written by the light of a bride's candle.
I think about the love of our apple.
My tongue swells up, feels like a marshmallow.
I think about her, Ethiopia.

Our daughter comes from Ethiopia.
I pray when she's in love, she won't elope
with a man who's skin is like marshmallows.
I pray she'll keep, like I did, a notebook,
and write of her love and their apples.
They'll marry and join their life's candles.

The two are one, a beautiful candle.
Then she'll return to Ethiopia,
and in that land she'll find her eye's apple.
Unlike us, she won't be glad she eloped.
Her apple will shine and keep a notebook
and write of the love of two marshmallows.

Two lovers, we, our skin like marshmallows.
Two hearts are one, glowing in a candle.
A love, immortalized in a notebook
Our greatest love, she, Ethiopia
will tell of our love and why we eloped.
I'll taste again the taste of your apples.

Two marshmallows in love will elope.
Our candles joined, I'll talk of your apple
in my notebook. She, Ethiopia.