My worth is not to be teased out in the sum of my earnings
Judge it instead, by the contents of my bookshelves
By the thoughtful seedlings
That I collate and curate
Nurture and germinate
Budding into leafy life
On rooted branches
Know me by the prose and poetry
That feeds the fertile field of my mundane existence
The blooming, sensual buds that pepper my soul
With erotic wickedness
Know me by musicking fabrics
Those collages as flighty as birdsong,
As winged hopes posing side by side
On leaning branches
She is to be trusted
Who lines the heart of her home
With an armoury of intellect
Who fashions from the fragile triumphs
Of another’s best endeavours
A virtuous fortress
Mounted on the head of the mountain
She is generous, who,
As her fortress rests
On the rhizome of its foundation
Beckons you across the threshold
She who sits
Who shares
And who grows with you
Until, with the seasoning, seasoned waters of time
You are
Both the richer
