I am drunk on the poetry of a new found love,
it's a flow not a bond and it's well dreamt of.
Whilst the waters are sweet and crisp and clear,
a little further on a fork slides near.
The inebriating liquor pours under my skin,
so despite the cascade my face creeps to a grin.
Awash in the eddies of this close-found dream,
I giddy at the thought of rejoining downstream.