The lovers-root is a white-flower
The month; does but shiver into joy,
With the tears of a snow-drop,
Little-bells, buoyant, green and cloy,
Ringing; beyond the hilltop.
The lovers-root is a white-flower
On Valentine's Day:
Thus it performs both sweet and sour
Piercing the walls; of shy Cathay.
Kisses: mingle, like woodbines...
As brown; blue jay's mêlée in the eaves...
They're limbs, entwined, like vines:
Need only, the wind, which cleaves.
Violets stir in her amethyst nap
She my oracle, my lover—sings
And awakens; from the frozen snap!
A mortal being, with; wings.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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