Nights In May
Nights in May are so seductive,
they make you wait for hours
in that glorious stage light
from the west,
before they deign to rise
onto the stage of the quite
brief performance of their artistry.
Their breath is balmy, laden
with that blend of all the
fragrances they steal
from blossoms,
which coquettishly they
wear like laces fastened
round some young girl’s thighs.
In May the nights flirtatiously
wink at you with sparks
they like to borrow
from the stars,
they expertly employ the
moon to highlight the smooth
shapes of budding lush fertility.
They cradle you in night-blue arms
arousing wishes rather than
lulling you to sleep, till
from the east
pale heralds will approach
to make them organize their exit
accompanied by the birds’ symphony.
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