OLIVE AND I

The olive branch
Is like an arm outstretched
Extended, patiently holding peace
Welcoming true love.

I was unprepared for the taste
Of olive, that can be sweet, sour
Spicy, highlighting a salty taste
True of life, and of life, truly lived.

Cross-legged on white-washed sands of Crete,
I watched her island seas wash over
Determinedly, I pushed my olives aside
Just as love had rejected me.

London forced olives upon me once again
His plain pasta kissed with balsamic bite
It was plain to see, politeness here
And love, were shallow impositions.

Olive knew more, knew I needed more
Sending me home, to my one true Love
The one who was waiting, patiently
Behind the front door.

When Love became so ill
Olive offered him ‘a will to live’
This vine Bach had bottled
And peace, I gave to Love.

Olive followed me through dark caves, over high seas
Whispering messages of peace and power
Her age-old groves harvested fruit from labour
And delivered my Love from his darkest hour.

Another age, another true Love
He too, lived long and was buried
With my love, held, bestowed
By an olive tree beside his grave.

Olive became our peace, our power
Though did not fruit in that grave-soil
Waiting patiently, to move us yet again
With memories alongside and Love anew.

Now olives home-grown are flavoured
With balm of lime, and finger lime
Zesty chillies red and orange zest hold
Heightened with pink salt from Cretan seas.

In our forever home, with water and love
Olive tree tripled in size
Laden with fruit, I am eager to taste
Love again and treat lovingly, all that do.

Each year I crave the tang of olive
Home-harvested fruit, a complex blend
A tastes, love marinated in time given
To love, and cares for Loves, so true.

True love has wagging tails
Ready for tasty, home-grown treats
They all follow, ground and grow
Return their love, it’s true.
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