Misty morning on a dew dropped day;
Wild, windswept grasses of a sunlit way;
Thick, thorny stems of red roses in May;
In bed with you is where I'd like to stay.
Lovely, long lashes touch my outstretched finger tips;
Affable words exhale with swirling joint wisps;
Each lid is sealed by the caress of my lips;
Two green gateways soak my image in with compassionate sips.
Melodic might accompanied by a malachite stare;
Their organic gentility contrast my red hair;
Pacifying pastures portray the intensity of your care;
To be bereaved of your fair glare is a thought I won’t bear.