I want to mesh the sky within your hair,
your breasts like rolling hills that hold the streams
'neath wistful clouds that issue from your dreams,
your sanctuary-arms shall form my lair.
Let all of nature play before your feet
lit by the lovely colour of your eyes,
your voice the source that sounds the wind with sighs
and sun shall shine to sing your curves complete.
Bother tomorrow troubling today,
trying to take the time away from truth -
indiffer'nt to the thrilling tide of youth,
setting the trap of caution in your way.
Mad passion sparks no poems if the sun
rides rings round years until your summer's done.