Do I lie upon these verdant spears,
And gaze unto the heavens.
‘Neath the boughs of the orchard,
Laden with the receipt of Venus.
Nigh the vernal showers,
Upon the passage of fair weather.
How the skies now welcome the somber ashen,
As departs the oneiric azure.
Though, I be embosomed by this sylvan protector;
Sheltered of the coming liquescent nature;
Permitted to appease my pensive complexion.
Oh the solace of my environs so begets a fecund mind,
Thus, commence I to ponder matters as regards love, and Death, and life.
And whilst mid thought, alas! The rains dawn
Imbuing the earth ‘round, yet hither I remain.