The Symphony of Spring

The waves crash against the rocks
with the consistency of young lovers.

The moaning of the ocean
echoes through the town
and up to the top of the island.

Red kites dot the blue, water-reflected sky.

The trees sway together
dancing with the wind
to the melody of the birds' angelic voices.

The children's distant laughter
accompanies the hymn of the
virgin lawnmower from the town below.

The aroma of the freshly cut grass
invites me to inhale
and join the dance.

I twirl in circles,
free from the burden of time
as I have unlocked my handcuff
and thrown my watch
over the canyon's rock wall.

Dandelion wishes float through the air
and collide with my skin,
the same way your kisses
plant seeds all over my body.

Blades of grass separate my toes
(painted silver).
The trickling of the creek
prances through the air
like a 4-year-old girl in a white dress,
blonde, bouncy curls,
with a ribbon in her hair.

The cherry blossoms bloom
to the rhythm of the breeze
that blows through my hair, my skirt,
and caresses my body the way
your fingertips
trail from my neck,
around my breast,
down my waist
and to my hip.
I feel warm as the sun
kisses my naked skin.

Spring is an aphrodisiac.
I simply feel in love.
So with an orchid in my hand,
I present it to you.
Kiss me sweetly and welcome
the symphony of Spring.