Breeze, ******* please into her arms,
her eyes, I try to see in them her love for me
to understand her majesty and mystery,
her candor and her kindness, hoping
winds would whip her kisses to my lips.
Morning sunlight shines upon her, *******
beckoning my mouth closer. Her golden hair
I spread on white pillows, a silhouette
against pink walls, calls crying
for another ******, must you ever
leave me in this paradise of love?

TOD HOWARD HAWKS