Behind th' bushes I caught thee As thou drove forth straightly by me. Wearing a grey suit and dark tie Thou smiled as thou waved us goodbye.
I was trudging along one friend When outright it began to rain. Flipping about th' green bushes; Darting afore 'twixt blue masses.
Thou wert as keen as usual Busy as t'ose spinning laurels With leaves so prone as nearby wood Whose fruits real jolly fine and good.
Thou wert screened by yon murky glass Whilst rain soaked us wet by th' grass. Scents of firm tulips ***** my breath; filling plump bleak air with warm death.
Among t'ose hills wert swarms of bees and roaming flies behind whose courts. Swans t'at wandered by wert like thee; comely but shy in thy owneth worlds.
Lilies of life, roses of death Be blessings to thy youth and health And soft like moonlit lavender; Turn to me alone and leave her.
But my poems wert within thy mind; and my songs thy red-lipped sonnet. Everything's good; everything's fine; Read my words tonite 'fore thy bed.
And as thou sat breathless and still Like t'is trifling rain made us feel; Guilty as itself and fake clouds For show'ring our naive earth out loud.
Our destiny was seen again; Like how some dand'llions shalt remain When t'is cold-like spring's dragged away As summer befriendeth early May.
Webs of young hope gasped in thy eyes; clear as had never been disguised. Not as vague but wert surely thine, blissful and sweet; as which of mine.