In a field of springtime joy, neath the soft yellow sun.
My lover and I share, and toy, with eachother, such fond fun.
Gentle wind upon green grass,
sky that stretches, white clouds pass,
constant insects that harass.
Yet still are we laughing.
Fair and calm this springtime day, shared between us, loving.
Always for her my mind is gay, such a strength of wanting.
Pressing flowers 'tween fond pages,
talking nothing for countless ages,
Sun alight clouds, an unseen aegis.
In her warmth we're dozing.
Soft warm breeze carries treasures to us from far away,
a scent I know she cherishes, my step I do not 'llow delay.
Frantic frolic, find the flowers,
search for seconds, feels like hours
wheel heel and petals embower.
To her, I am sprinting.
To my love I then raced forward, tripping over nothing.
Bounding limbs, great grieves adorned, I can hear her laughing.
"Why are you bounding, now my deer?"
"I have brought you flowers love, here!"
Smiling, happy, beloved dear.
To them she is cleaving.
One for hair, and one for dress, taken to her, lovingly.
Pulls me closer, to her breast, kisses me so softly.
"Noble knight, beloved one,
lay with me, the day is young,
peace is with us, let's have fun."
Then coyly is she kissing.
Petals drop gracefully, from off us both, lighting in purple between.
Rose for myself, Bluebells for my lover, my princess, goddess, dream.
