“Up-wellsprings poetry from the coldest; deserts hearts”

“Up-wellsprings poetry from the coldest; deserts hearts”.
Where; blooms the most exotic flowers of all…
“They’re dunes, they’re zephyrs, and they’re petals caul,
Wrap-around each sunset—sunrise subverts”.

“Yet, they’re as real as any pollen-laden bee.
In the art of subtlety, such, interactions…
Deceiving as the moon, undercurrents the sea:
But, these ruses are finite, attractions”.

“They call for intricacy, a little mystery!
And of course, they all question what if, anything’.
“Poems are about: Do, they have integrity
Who’ll balm just one soul, Lord Where to begin?
Each word, a sphere orbiting—another!
Let’s not be over-analytical… my lover’.