Love Poem in a Sweet Spell
He was a prince
among the amenable,
which is to say
she knew where he stood.
More importantly, she also knew
where he lay,
where his head rested,
where his hands roamed,
and that his heart,
for all its fixed lodging–a room at her inn,
room for her within–burned
with a blue-red flame
as if the blood coursing through it
had simply added an “h”
(blood, of all elements
one that is able to spell)
for hearth,
husband,
honeypie.
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A poem for no prompt but my dear husband’s sweetness. I will likely link with Real Toads Open Platform.
ManicDDaily 
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