You are the dove,
Of the sublime moon,
The nightingales,
Sweet companion,
Through the Midnights,
Clouds and ethereal candle,

Dancer,
Your hips are like crescents,
They glow and sigh,
With enrapturing octaves,
The rhythms,
Honey companion,
Through the stillnesses,
Hymns and irises,

Your body is as honey,
The maple trees,
Flower companion,
It is like a golden shore,
That waves, love, and stars,
Kiss deeply and sweet,
With a fineness of honey,
Your soul caresses,
In its misty and warm solitude,

When it relaxes,
In its dress of love and jazz,
The dove and nightingale,
Become one in hymn,
The maple tree,
And flowers,
Are one in their sighs,
And your silohuette,
Glows, like an ethereal candle,
Caressed by the waves,
Your own love, sighs, and honey,
The crescents,
and evening irises
Reynaldo Casison