She walked along the sunlit river bank Invited me 'come hither' with her eyes Silent among the ancient oaks we sank Our hunger sweet 'mid heartbeats and soft sighs. Our mingled sweat made musk amid the leaves Her skirts in disarray, my breeches nigh Our straining flesh entwining, aching need Enkindling, smould'ring, burning, flaming high. Till spent with oak leaves in our hair we lie.
Author:
Bill Gawne