Spring breath sighs upon my breast
fragrant lilac, dew laced and cool.
There at forest edge the paleness
of moonlight kissed rosy cheeks,
where crept the thunder of life
amongst moulted tree castings.
The finger of day beckons, a passionate
desire, eyes shaded, lips parted,
to summon flesh upon flesh, sweet,
sweet flower of fire burning my soul,
consuming all that will become of me,
rolling in the frothing white surf of love.
©2015, Donald Harbour