Too Little Time

Too little time to court,
To breathe the cloves,
To wear the laurel.
Come to me,
See if my lap
Is not delicate red,
Broad and sweet
Of flavor.
But too much
Would overwhelm,
Suffocate.

Elixir of cinnamon and almonds
To make the heart
Golden again.
Yet my untended heart of gold waits by the wall.
I offer you a cup of Hibiscus tea,
To which you shrug,
Knowing not the labor.
I take to pick its delicate leaves for you.

He shall not wait
For Hibiscus tea,
Perchance that lap
That bids him near,
Holds greater flavor.