On my heart. Deep

Warmth of woman in stark contrast to the winter of life

I smell her- intoxicatingly 
       warm apple pie

Sweet taste of lips found in the dark of the night

The night cast in the dark of the bar

The brilliant sounds of her voice ring bright as the sun just beyond the prison doors 

Doors marked with the light shining drink your fill

But she is the drink 
     The mixture of madness

Beautiful in form taste and being

Winter might be in full bloom
      Her beauty grows brilliant                  
      flowers

              On my heart       deep       within my soul