PFJChow.com : My Poetry Lodge

                                                                                 Sweet
                                                                           Artemis,
                                                                   my mistress
                                                              of night,        
                                                        beguiles the
                                                  world with her
                                              gossamer gown of
                                          light.  Her crescent
                                        bow arched, the
                                    shooting-star arrow
                                perched to flight, marks
                              the night’s rendezvous
                            spot, for the night-dream
                           lover’s abandon, revelry
                          and frolic sports.  When
                         our frequent passions and
                         longings meet, as the gods
                         upon Mount Olympus quarters
                         sleep, her skirt half-lifted, she
                         tiptoes to me on nimble feet.
                         My impatience wanes, as the
                         tree shadows sway,  giving
                          glimpses of my love drawing
                            near; my desires wax, when her
                             flower fragrance stirs the air,
                               raising hope my love will soon
                                 appear.  In new blushes, she first
                                   demurs, and finally yields.  Her
                                      full-figured charms she reveals, to
                                        my awe-struck lidded eyes, butterfly-
                                            flitting upon her radiant fields. My
                                               breath she steals, my heartbeats
                                                    skip;  the leaves chatter and night
                                                         blossoms dip.  The stars blush and
                                                                furtively peek, from behind yonder
                                                                        night curtain of blue velvet sweep.
                                                                                 Amid the olive groves, by the
                                                                                          Aegean Sea, our tryst we keep.