An ice cold glass of lemonade
Sitting on my porch table
I am listening to the harmonic
singing birds chirping their spring
jubilation.
Is there anything sweeter than this?
Possibly tickets to your favorite band
or a woman that can please a need
with ecstasy, leisurely walks with
my lover. Her hand with mine, we
walk like two specters; flowers
blossom with every step.
Night-time comes and a breeze
incircles our veranda, the lavender
scent on her body, and the low lights
beg for action, fufilling their wishes
the night becomes a dream of sex
and dillusional passion, oh these
Summer Winds, impecable they are.














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