My Garden
by sarAdora
~~~~~~~

I want you...
with yesterday's hunger...
I need you...
and a never ending tomorrow.

Love affairs happen so easily. A seed is planted... by chance... flown in on a wandering breeze... settling within two hearts. 'Tis a beautiful planting. But... they take a lot of work to bring them to fruition. If you've ever tended a garden, you know that seeds need to be nourished in order to grow. They need care and if, like a love affair, are important to you, will require frequent attention.

Every winter, my mailbox is stuffed with garden catalogs. Some have covers with the most luscious pictures of flowers, others with ripe and succulent vegetables. A fat golden butternut squash beside the plump and green snow peas, giant purple eggplants next to pictures of vine ripened tomatoes. These are colors I want in my vegetable beds.

And the herb catalogs, filled with rosemary and fennel, parsley and mints and fuchsia colored basil in full bloom. I count twelve varieties of oregano and note them with satisfaction. They'll be freshly pinched to go into my sauces, marinara, béchamel and bolognaise.

I subscribe to a fern catalog, oohing and ahhing over pictures of nature's exotic fronds, and dreaming of what they'd look like in my garden. The ones that curl up from the base, feathery wisps of greenery that draw my palm to their silk and velvet arms will be perfect surrounded by the river rock I made someone drag home for me... I love ferns.

I plan...
to let you seduce me
You'll pick
The right moment...
When my body is freshly scented
Awakening your desire.

I can spend entire evenings pouring over the choices - dahlias and peonies catch my eye as do the 10-foot sunflowers. This year's sunflower choice is fiery orange in place of the traditional canary yellow ones. I put a checkmark next to those.

Love affairs are like scented herbs, best when absolutely fresh and intensely and sensually aromatic. When herbs bloom, their flowers attract butterflies and hummingbirds and my hand reaching out, my head bending, my palm cupping the petals to inhale and capture their wonderful scents. When love blooms, 'tis the same. The attraction to each other is so deep that it pains you to be apart from each other's arms.

You seek me...
Hungry... starved... famished
You are ready to devour me
And... I... you.

Fresh herbs require care - sun, water, and soil. Herb gardens aren't just for show though they could be. The greens are verdant with varying hues and shades, the textures... both rough and smooth. Some herbs are feathered and ruffled; all are succulent... and aromatic. Sometimes I get a rush... my senses bleed, overflowing with scent... then taste. I love to bury my nose in their foliage... my nostrils flare... the scent turns to taste... my throat opens... swallows... coating a path... filling me.

Your arms...
Possessive... claiming me...
I lean into you
And glory in your embrace.

Basil's intensely aromatic leaves originated in South Africa and can't survive outdoors until nights are warm. It prefers rich soil and will continue to produce year after year with frequent trimming and fertilizing. It is the backbone of Italian cuisine.

Love affairs can't endure unless there is a genuine attraction between a man and a woman. Love affairs grow stronger when there is affection as well as love and will last year after year with frequent communication and mutual respect. The backbone of lasting love affairs is the sincere and constant desire to be with one another.

Chives are members of the Lily family and are the earliest herbs to appear in the spring. The blossoms are rose-pink and in direct sunlight, will often blush a fiery red. They need to be tended often so they do not run wild and overtake the garden, just as the strong arms of a woman's lover... holds her in his embrace every day and keeps her from running wild - with a pinking bottom should the need arise.

Fennel is a statuesque, anise-flavored perennial that lends drama to the garden. It has lacy fronds ranging in color from deep chocolate to bronze and to green with all of the shades in between. It reminds me of my lover's strength and the many facets of his personality. It stands tall and though it sways in strong winds, it never breaks its stance - the way he bends to me and bears all my tempestuous ways with patience and all the love I will accept.

Oregano is a deeply flavorful herb, a Greek native that needs to be sown frequently. It is used in so much of my cooking and I am always aware when it is missing from a dish that requires its flavor.

You're eager to dive...
into my center...
with the speed of light.
Passion thick... and rapid...
as you thrust.

Love affairs need to be sown every day... a smile, a word, a touch, a phone call telling that you care... a necessity every day.

And catnip - it has a narcotic effect on most cats, even lions. And when a sensual scent and taste is used on my lover who was born in the Chinese year of the tiger...

I use small flat metal stakes to mark my garden - labeling the herbs and noting the dates I planted the seeds and seedlings. I check them regularly so I can anticipate when they will be ready to harvest.

I like to leave brief notes in my husband's pockets. When his hand goes hunting for a handkerchief or his wallet, he often encounters a folded note from me - his lover - who is thinking about him and wishing him in my arms. He always calls when he gets a note from me, his whispered words filling my heart.

All that matters
is the pleasure we give each other,
not how I can explain it.
I close my eyes
and sink into orgasm.

Herb gardens aren't for everyone. They take someone that appreciates... the senses... Green seedlings in little pots... lining windowsills in kitchen gardens... a pinch of culinary embellishment... fresh, tangy, tart, sweet, mint, and often earthy. I like to plant herbs in my vegetable beds... around the rim, their flowering vines like ribbons caressing the stone walls... teasing one's eye... and the cat that stalks its flow.

Every spring I spy the pineapple mint and the oregano in friendly combat... their underground runner roots seeking crevices in the stones... defying gravity... sprouting where I least expect to see them. I push the chives deep into the soil next to the scallions and leeks so their fuchsia blooms will join the onions' purple flowers.

Sprigs of yellow will dot the single row of lettuce and the half dozen cauliflower heads. The scent of spearmint and garlic will grow between the golden fennel towers filling the air and keep the slugs away. My tomatoes will grow taller than the oregano but every time I sit on the low stone wall, I'll inhale the marinara sauce I'll make when the beefsteaks ripen on the vine. The cat will sun itself on the narrow bench built into the stone bed, his tail swishing if I try to shoo him away.

I need more.
My body greeds for yours.
Your eyes reflect mine.
There is more than harmony between us.

It doesn't take much effort to coax my lover outdoors. I take his hand so he'll follow me through the verdant garden, the setting sun glowing gold as we cast shadows where we walk. As the weather warms, we're tempted to lie in that garden, our limbs entwined with the lush foliage, our bodies one with each other and Mother Earth.

Arrest me with...
your words and honest probes...
Your hands where they belong...
Warming me.
Milk me of my kisses...
Succulent tastes and touches...
wet with intimacy...
Your tongue a slip and slide...
Mapping the heat of me...
branding me...
claiming me as your own.

I want you...
with yesterday's hunger...
I need you...
and a never ending tomorrow.
Come to me...
Now.

~ End ~

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