Our trade in love

As the year turns
            and seasons slip
one into another
            the still air lies lightly
above the land
            nature on its marks
about to burst
            into colour

and this our trade in love
            the history of our blood
the lines that have brought us
            to this convergence
to the ceremony
            of our commingled flesh
each with an inexhaustible
            appetite for life

our nails pared
            our hair trimmed
the deep breath
            as we embrace
Passion’s give and take
            our lives no less mysterious
than those of the foxes
            that live in the reality
of our imagination :
            and in your body
I see the map of my heart
            the endless path
that I must take
            time and time again

John Lyons

Give me some music; music, moody food
Of us that trade in love.
                              Antony and Cleopatra