Morning Star

Morning Star

I will blow you my Jasmine scented breeze;
I will send you golden splinters from the furnace
Of my soul;
To delight your eyes – I will seek out Amethyst;
And a camel-train of spices I will send
Across the desert;
My crescent moon is a cup, holding a golden star,
And the Mid-day sun is a ring upon my finger;
Quench your thirst from the wellspring
Of my being;
For you, are the morning of my day.
White sails carry harvest from my Ocean
White foam dances,
Playful at your ankles;
Palm trees sway, whilst your sensual beauty
Steps, discreetly,
Into my Midnight pool;
Music rises from my tent
And you entrance every ember of my heart;
Wake with me, in the morning of my day.