• Pale lips sketched thin on gaunt faces,
    Penciling in stencils of the scene before;
    Two nights camping in an empty space
    Stretched out on picnic mats lain outdoors.

    Waves of pink like cherry farts
    Spreading the fragrance of fields of blooming,
    Foretelling new beginnings as winter parts,
    Turning back time as age turns to grooming.

    Gently rustling petals like clapping cheeks
    Composing silent melodies assailing my favour
    A quick glance over at the source, so meek,
    Confers the identity of the perpetrator.