My love for You is such a joy,
like how Lilies give much to bees
and bees to pollens seeding another beauty,
as plenty a beauty as the lost Eden,
a picture of intangible gift
given to the blessed one.
But little I was the blessed one,
perfection You were of intangible
wrapped in a lost beauty,
Fated must I let my grip loose,
seeding You to the void of a land
needing more of Your warm embrace.
Thus of Your knowledge I humbly ask,
doing such won’t make My affection less bask,
Dear, worry of Me not,
as I will stand ravaging fire in utter bliss,
obliviating the burn of My porcelain skin,
in glorying exchange
for a painting of Your smile,
no greater treasure could suffice.