Making Love
When the seraphic spring departed it left for me
a posy of purple rose as dainty as the dew of dawn.
I placed it in the alluring vase of my entranced heart,
drenched it with love, it won’t wilt in the craving heat.
In midsummer amorous mystique night, I’d take you
through the moondust mist to the dulcet seashore.
Tuning my pulsating heart with its sapphire rhythm,
on your pearly arms I’d place the bouquet and me.
With the enticing melody of whistling zephyr’s flute,
and with the mesmeric music of the rolling waves,
I’d compose the lyric of my love to resonate for you
with my yearning glistening with dreams in your eyes.
As I’d reach the crescendo of my summer swan song,
nothing more I could ask from you, for you’d be mine.
Even when we reach the edge of dissolving twilight zone,
our paths won’t part, for I’d make love the way you like.
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