Crimson is the west
And birds are
Returning to nest.
Beneath tree
Flourish of feelings...
Holding in heart
Zeal and zest
A boy is standing.
While quixotic clouds begin
Kissing the earth
He drowns in his girl's quest,
Drenched in desire.
In that promised land
Fenced in finespun flowers...
Setting in fest
A dancing Missy appears.
Holding her hands,
Kissing her forehead...
The boy flies high
And feels perfectly blessed.
Gestures and grand
And act are awesome...
Words are wanting
Yet love is confessed
In fashion.
None knows when
That Twilight set out...
But surely that dusk
Hasn't seen the dawn
For that two blest...
And all fade out.
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