The Space Under the Dresser

He is the space under the dresser,
The unknown creature:
Bright eyes in black night.
The freshly printed newspaper.
His colour is oaky moss green,
His flavour is mellow red wine.
He reminds me of a lounging panther,
A flowering cactus,
A dewy autumn morning.
He is like coming home after a long holiday,
Comfy old slippers,
My favourite scarf.
He is a smooth sharp cheddar,
A melted chocolate,
A scattering of biscuits crumbs.
He is the element earth,
A wooded forest with a gentle fog.
He is my lighthouse,
My favourite old joke.
My brother.