The soft, wet sounds of evening
Cast under a green lit glow
The cicadas call, and frogs billow
The gentle creak of a lovers swing
Two forms melted into one
The bliss of time together
Unhindered, uninterrupted, unspoiled
It is our time, and no others.
CCB 7/30/07
1 comment:
Can I have some of that? You. Me. Tonight. Backyard swing?
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