I had gone outdoors, hopeful,
For the grace of falling rain;
Though its bounty would bestow
On dry earth all the same.
Anon, my heart's cheer withered,
As I strolled on through the wood;
Come to my surprise, the leaves
Bear more drops than they should.
Oh, those mounds of gold that bestrew my yard
Are piles of crisp oak leaves I raked this fall.
Ere their deep hue of verdurous beauty
Belonged to the summertime, I recall.
A wildflower bloomed
On the edge of a path.
One scarce of flora,
So I bent down to ask.
"How did you flourish
In soil so lorn?"
Her reply was brief,
But it carried no scorn.
"Oh yes, it's quite odd
To have sprouted here alone,"
Said the gypsy flower,
Amongst gravel and stone.
It's when the stars lose their shine,
That I see the colors intertwine:
The pale gold of morning light,
Fused with the amethyst of the night;
Then the robin sings its song,
At the marriage of dusk and dawn.
Rills of sweat, glisten
Beading down our necks like rain
Bodies soaked in lust
Your love is my vice
Thirsting for your soft caress
Black rosary beads
Holy prayers uttered to God
Penance for my sins