In the dulcimers vivifying tug,
Passion is born again and again,

You long most the gentleness,
And the Suns drumming mercies,
Upon thy Midnight throne,

The rigid marble melts like wax,
You always flourish like summer leaves,

You have a gregarious way with love, Darling,
And sensations like a cooing cabaret,

When you bellow, even the wind is flavor,
And nurturing magnetism,

Shiningly, you embrace it,
with the sensuous girth,
Of thy exuding mirth
Reynaldo Casison