Dragonish

To Poetry

The sated wind doodles mischievously
no longer the ravening raptor loosed
that scratched sharp claws to my unfettered glee.
Now are you temperate, husky, obtuse.

With pleasure? Do I intuit truly?
Well, I am happy too. Your warming quill
blows tenderly with superfluity -
billows through me so that I am fulfilled.

     The almond trees have been worried of flower
     pale petals are strewn voluptuously
     do they foreshadow you, oh, that they do.

     Let us lay down, love on our bridal shower
     free-abandon, wild and rapturously
     will you take me and I take you?      I do.