Oh, how soft could I love?
Spring trees in their
   glowing green
could not sing the scene
of the passion I'd share.
Lips have not moved
in such supple
    sweet speech
to touch upon the blushes
hidden beneath those fair cheeks.

I'm finding rhyme within
rhythm's soothing sigh
and longing to belong to
the skies within your eyes.
013105~6.05p