My Favourite Metaphor for You

(courtesy of 'The Little Prince')

I didn't keep

the fox poster

that spoke of

you / our love /

your death, in

a secret language

made of images.

I had written

the fox poem.

I thought that

pain enough – more

would be wallowing  –

but now seek

other fox pictures.

Their different landscapes

are immaterial. For

it's the fox

I crave, vivid

against any backdrop,

coming towards me

shy yet purposeful....

Bit by bit

I tamed you

with my words,

with my love;

but could, finally, 

not save you

from the hunters.

Written for The Poetry of Three facebook group.

Letter to a Lasting Love

Little Prince, I loved you at first sight. 

When I came to know you better,

your inner beauty matched and deepened
the sweet exterior, so my love deepened too.

I grew more intimate with you; at first 

swiftly, immediately, filled with increasing 

excitement and wonder ... astonished, rapturous.

Then even closer and better: leisurely, gradually.

'Time cannot weary nor custom stale.' I return

again and again, sometimes after long absence –

yet, you are never truly far from me. Your words

whisper often in my innermost ear, sound in my heart.

Oh excellent teacher and friend, I am and am not

possessive. I hold your physical body close, clasped

to my breast. Yet I share you with many. Once you lent 
one man and me your language (before he returned to his star).

Responding to Magaly's irresistible prompt at 'imaginary garden with real toads': My Dearest Book, I Wrote You a Poem ...  
(But the phrase in quotes is, of course, from Shakespeare.)