my lover is a morning flower
honeydew drops dripping from her chin
as she delights herself
in the early rays of the sun
my lover is a morning flower
that spreads her arms
to invite the creatures
that will feast on her pollen
The early morning sun shines through the flowers and plants, creating a strange aura in the garden. There is a silence that starts to give way to the chatting of birds and the screams of insects. But I remain on the cusp of that moment, one that will tip the scales in mere minutes. This golden moment, one that cannot be captured, merely experienced, forces me to write about it. A delicate balance between order and chaos, moments away from an intimate dance that will last till the sun sets again.
I intrude on this moment, this silence full of potential, filled with so many invitations. I help myself to this invitation, trying to capture its presence, but the photographs and poems are mere representations of this moment, shadowy copies of the real thing that always and persistently evades my attempts at conveying its tremendous beauty, tranquillity, freedom.
Please enjoy these poems, these early-morning photographs, that try to emulate, imitate, copy, and reproduce the beautiful moment just as the sun came up.
she smells of honey
her pollen dripping
the early morning sun
caressing her tender flesh
I take a bite from the forbidden fruit
and starve my addiction
only until the next bite
pregnant with potential
waiting to burst open
in an ecstatic and euphoric eruption
of honeydew-soaked flowers
that will spew its lovely smell
nostalgia that soaks
the inside of my mind
my lover
— a morning flower —
with tender flesh
touched by the sun
touched by the smell
of honey and lavender
pink blue purple
an array of smells
I wonder what she does
with all of her joy
in the morning sun
pink blue purple
my lover becomes a flower
to which I always return
in the form of a fleeting fragrance
tainted by nostalgia
I am a sea of flowers
in an arid land
I drip my honey
to lure the innocent
I am a seductress
that cloaks me in petals
I am a sea of flowers
that soak the visitor
in frangipani and rosemary
in rose water and honeydew
My lover is a morning flower, cloaked and soaked in frangipani, rosemary, lavender. My lover is a morning flower that drips honey and spreads her pollen so that others might also find delight in her smells. My lover is a morning flower, that is touched by the early morning sun, soaking up its energy to produce more flowers.
I could not resist the temptation of thinking about my lover as an early-morning flower, getting ready for the day. She opens her petals, attracts insects and pollinators, and she produces the most wonderful smells with the slight breeze that momentarily moves through her stems.
But the moment cannot be captured, as there is just something magical about the early morning flowers, even if I am attempting to copy its feeling.
For now, I hope you enjoyed these poems and photographs.
Happy photographing and keep well.
All of the writings, musings, and poems are my own, albeit inspired by my lover and the early morning flowers. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm lens or Nikkor 50mm lens.
