Curious is youth’s passion darting and flitting in and out of the spring rains.
Runs the chase down by the willows where a small brook
whispers sweet sonnets to the lovers lying juxtapose.
Skin to skin, pulse on pulse, as trembling hands touch with
shy smiles, and no regard for time, only this.
Only to know each others eyes, as they recite their lines on a stage of sighs,
and fumble through their roles in adolescent euphoria. Finally sweat drips cold from smooth brows
laying spent in the soft embrace of the night’s breeze. Celestial onlookers tread invisible to gaze
and ponder these sleeping mortals cleaving in the tall summer grass.
Chests rise and fall in the pale light of Luna, rise and
fall, as Venus begins to stir in the east, rise and fall
full of the vineyard’s sweetest press, waking to drink deep again before dawn.