Dew on Hydrangea
How candid your display of luscious pink
Granting my eyes a mesmerizing view;
Saturating me with a scent of you
That makes it hard to coherently think;
Dilated pupils beg me not to blink
As this level of passion feels so new.
You, glistening in the wetness of dew,
From your flustered chalice I long to drink.
How you have me under this fragrant spell
That transforms me to a sniveling hound;
Never in my life have I felt stranger,
Nor more dedicated to say farewell
To all inhibitions that have me bound;
Your scent to me is dew on hydrangea.
- M.A. Tempels © 2017