Analysis of "pushed to the ground" #32

In her eyes I felt to see,
emotions from lakes of ecstasy,
buried deep inside underneath,
layered gardens tend to wreathe.

In that land I love to dwell,
magical mysteries do tell,
stories of a love cherished so laced,
of butterflies twined to taste.

Colour tan from where I fell,
in love branding wings wishing well,
as I watch they fade away to stay,
flown in gardens love her face.

Of which I breathe in her smell,
the breadth of wonders from her spell,
black on tan the crows flown today,
on her wings of satin spades.