Beyond a small stream’s margin lay we two beneath a giant oak which spread sweet shade. We barely knew what next we ought to do there, pleasure-sated from the love we’d made within deep foilage like a carpet lush. The grass, which from the bank seemed to unroll with wealth of buttercups and trim of brush continued past us, up a gentle knoll. Wrapped in one another’s arms, we pondered how the rill, once sprightly, now seemed subdued, and how it once had rippled as it wandered toward this sheltered spot of solitude. Our brook, which kissed each boulder on its way, in vacant time – with us – now sparkling lay. (a haiku and a monoku formed from using the bolded words in this sonnet) grass seemed to unroll beyond a small stream’s margin . . . wealth of buttercups our sprightly brook - which had kissed each boulder on its way - now sparklng lay
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