For Sweet November Rain

Yes, I remember… I’ve a sonnet of us, rhyming silently, across the vast blue sky in waiting, eagerly for sweet November rain. We knew, we both have the need to feel what’s good to be touched… the truth was, by the way, I enjoyed the beat. We danced, whilst the noon birds warbled, with unchained melodies, as the passing wind gently rippled the field’s golden hair, till we settled, ourselves, into a naked ritual, exaggerating much the vers libre it was leading us, before finally, we wrestled the night, with an adieu kiss. Yes, I remember… I’ve a sonnet of us, for sweet November rain to cleanse and freshen the wrinkles we left on a golden field, of tares, …for its next transients!