Kindled Love

Have you ever kindled a fire, that was naught but ash,
And a few dying embers?
The hissing orange tendrils warm your hands like the tender caress,
Of a lovers fingers,
And the smoke resembles ghosts, seeking escape through the maze of the chimney pipes.
Oh like delicate fruits have you not tended to their flesh with care,
Breathing deep of the aromatic ecstasy that blooms into your nose,
                Long have I journeyed as a journeyman does pursue perfection, but not to seek perfection,
                Rather to find she who sees the beauty in me for what it be.
Blood is a strange thing, like rubies so majestic yet worry always follows it as it flows from us,
And yet it fuels our hearts, and our brains, where love does dually bloom.
                We are like flowers that bloom with stems entwined
                Or rather trees with our roots ensared.
May we sing as one,
An endless song of passion;
Our hearts set the pace.