The Golden Fig Leaf

Softness, a caress spoken
by words whispered
like rain on greens
of elysian fields
touches of lips
like balmy air
blowing gentle on listening ears

shaken the blooms
they fall as confetti
on hearts as one
with the souls entwined
palm trees in empathy sway
on distant shore, moans
as breeze brushes through

they wake under idyllic glows
of setting and rising suns
amber glowing within their hearts
hopes blown on by signs
shown on golden leaves
of old sorcerer’s books
ancient love conjured

within Eden mated divine
tainted apples tasted
sins declared by heaven
made null by love
heartened by angels
sins reinvigorated within
reversed by adoration

a mere string tying
the hearts together
clinging to souls
not to fall asunder
on waysides
where words be doubled edged
as swords to pen.