As age wages one, love conducts its torrid crusade
Melts the brittle welted bonds of bones,
Melted by vernal mischance
Callow caution is a master of disguise
Brandishing bravado, sword and soul held high…
High about those that would best embrace
The puckered pink passions of flower-bud hearts.
Rapture reverberates the bonds of self-preservation
Mutes the ardent armaments of springtide
The fortifications of mercurial juvenescence smelt,
Thumping deeper than the fathomless fervor of an ember
Bewitchment breathers its sway into the roots of heart
Which ripple through frenzy and rise
Into thousandfold heart-strumming roses,
Robust, which flourish and enflame the bust and
Smolder, like a steady flame.