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poems some times say it all.

                        MY LOVE'S NAME
                    by Joe Tolve
     She's not a rose, but what else could smell so good?
Not perfume of a thousand flowers,
Nor the smell of fresh mowed heather blown in the sweet breeze.
Her fragrance is full of life and love,
Her moisture the fresh dew of spring.
Her life flow that of sexual bliss,
The innocence of childhood without blemish.
Her essence the fountain of life,
Her lips impart knowledge and wisdom.
My love's tongue the instrument of truth,
Her heights that of the sky and lows of her valleys.
Her demands that of needing flesh.
My love's body more delicate than that of butterflies wings,
Yet able to support life within and without.
Her tears are like oceans, lakes and running rivers,
Her breath is the oxygen that supports all life.
She needs our loving care to survive destruction.
We would not exist without her presents,
That's why her purity is our responsibility.
She is personally known by the birds and bees,
For she feeds them with her bountiful breasts.
Her name is known among all the planets and stars,
And she is known to us as mother earth, / better known as God.