This love of mine

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Fresh
this love of mine
like the unfurling buds of a beech tree in spring
yet evergreen
like the yew we lay beneath that day, beside the stream
and you, like that firm yew tree
strong enough to lean on
ever young to me

Warm
this love of mine
like the bricks that soaked in the summer sun
yet giving
like roses that day they opened their buds, displaying radiance
for all to see, but you said
their fragrant show
was just for me

Golden
this love of mine
like swirling leaves dying in the autumn breeze
yet alive
like my love; from that far-gone night when first I saw your face
until this lonely dreaming day
my love has survived
unchanged

Pure
this love of mine
like sparkling icicles in a winter waterfall
yet constant
though tomorrow, the ice may melt and drip, then rush away
I remain faithful to our stolen moments
through the seasons
of my life

©Jane Paterson Basil

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13 thoughts on “This love of mine

  1. When it is true love, every word written in dedication to the beloved feels like a dedication to the Higher Powers. This felt something like that. It’s so lovely that despite all the rocky roads you’ve travelled, you have a nice shady patch to relax in.

    Liked by 1 person

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