A Stranger

A stranger walks across the crowded floor catching my eye, he gives a wink and bows taking my hand he leads me to the moor there lays me down between the cornfield rows The moon gaily smiles and gives us a wave enjoying seeing us in passions throes he carries me off high until I rave such tender passion from me overflows Washing, lapping, flooding all our senses we whisper sweet nothings to each other enjoying without any pretences the bounties belonging to love in languor He set me afire with love's own passion we loved without an intermission