(Inspired by La Bella Rosa)
With a light Spring-wind gasp, arms extending to grasp,
The long stem which her palm shall receive,
Her desire comes alive with delight and surprise,
Like unfolding of buds into leaves.
And her cheeks become flush, tinted lovely and lush,
As the deep inner bowl of a bloom,
Her eyes glassy and wet, like the way petals get,
As the sky cries goodbye to the moon.
At her fingers first touch, her pure pleasure erupts,
In sweet cooing like birdsong at dawn,
And this trifle I give pales against what I live,
As she blossoms and thrives in the sun.
The long stem which her palm shall receive,
Her desire comes alive with delight and surprise,
Like unfolding of buds into leaves.
And her cheeks become flush, tinted lovely and lush,
As the deep inner bowl of a bloom,
Her eyes glassy and wet, like the way petals get,
As the sky cries goodbye to the moon.
At her fingers first touch, her pure pleasure erupts,
In sweet cooing like birdsong at dawn,
And this trifle I give pales against what I live,
As she blossoms and thrives in the sun.
