for my lovely, eternal, beautiful, dearest June on her birthday.
your words are like
sonnets encased in bookshelves,
beautiful as a medley of spring and summer,
like purposeful ink dripping from a well
to be dotted on paper with a peacock feather-
and I know you might have thought
that I would forget
those evenings
spent lingering in our garden
with raindrops and leaves
stomping and twirling over the ground like
twin earthshakers
and twining our schemes together
like spiderweb ivy
as the rain kissed the canopy of trees
above our small heads
but I know your face,
your amber eyes sparkling
like necklaces of wasps encased in sunlight,
your skin like baths on the moon.
and I know that you
and your words
are more beautiful than the rain
as it cleanses our garden in heaven
while we are away.
[I love you so much June. happy birthday :)]