pink rose

I start the year safely in the inspiration of my dear friend Mariya Andryichuk, whose photography adorns this new addition to the Fields of Arbol.

the rose is soft pink,
like your lips in shaded light
as I kiss them, as they
whisper wishes I am bound to grant,
scant moments in the future
and for as long as you would have me.
my resistance has passed away
and I am cast away from all
but the pink rose of your lips,
of your hips, and that slips into me
as I slip into you,
binding me to everything made irrelevant
by the single blossom
and the petals that fill my senses,
shatter my defense,
and draw me into your garden.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.