Fete of Ardor

After a dark, deep poem, I decided to write something on a much lighter note...This is about how a person feels when they see their beloved.

Fete of Ardor

Let the yearn of eternity,

bloom about the fresh turf.

Let the springtime wallows,

adorn the vast of azure.

Gentle ripples of sweet pasture,

with early bright on its claws,

like crystals for me to cull,

and drape the damsel's being.

Like the heavens riving,

to cast upon me its melodies,

the pochettes play me a fair descant,

and arachnid maids alight hither.

Why 'tis pomp and gaitey,

all from this maid's affects,

Why, only for thy, dear,

when even thy shade falls upon me.