When days to wilds became
Bright song of spring so real,
We gifted selves shameless,
Blooms laden in sunny fields.
Kisses grew whisperings airy,
Whizzing round us like bees,
O when we loved true dearly,
Gusts blew breathy thru trees.
Our touch devoting like rings,
Golden in grasses rung green
And eyes glazed over singing,
Wet and sleepy as ***** dream.
O how inmost times passed,
Winsome wee flowers in grass.