Love Song to the Queen of May

Electrical air, thunder praised lightning.
Aware, hug of ineffable gaze.
Aglow in nature’s snare.
Natural child.
Let her go wild.
Follow her there.
Enjoy these humble Spring delights,
softened days, enchanted nights.
Flowers of the May Queen,
bright expectant buds
waving, euphoria fragrant,
joyfully risen to
Earth’s celebration.
All that is or ever was or can occur
exists in whirling mists, vast cosmic blur
to set out bit by bit a brilliant poem
weaving eternally our common home.
Perhaps a poem of love,
thick words upon parchment
to hold to, warmly comfort sodden heart.
As flashing floods inundate, suffocate,
cleanse or lacerate from resultant rust.
Such perfumed promise might seem
a heaven sent reminder of what has been,
could become.
Romancers, lovers lifted above rhyme or
rhythmic scheme in perfect tune,
imbued truly with yearning spire of adoration,
create in shining halls of imagination
lyric poetry that never dies.
Gushing bloody revelation through fangs sharp and wise.
Temptress, tempestuous, oh tempt me pure and thorough.
Unrestrained wet, red essence
pumping into ecstatic relief.
Hidden as a jungle creature.
Learning by thrill, pagan exultation.
Strong scent of fecund Venus,
lusty scent of earth.
Make Peace The Issue

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