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!
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