IV.
Warm spring days, long gone past shall remember
Tantalizing scents carried on sweet gusts.
Undimmed by night's curse, tones of sweet timbre
Permeate my soul yielding potent lusts
Unveiled as fair and foul, yet tempting still.
Quenching such as a river unending
Gives me short reprieve to settle a quill
To paper, words as they are, defending
Passions spent and unspent in glorious
Action and design for posterity.
Hera holds sway for those who art cautious,
By Jove, I endure selfish charity.
Nothing left to chance, life of luxury
Is a prison of willing revelry.
© George Galang February, 2001
Tantalizing scents carried on sweet gusts.
Undimmed by night's curse, tones of sweet timbre
Permeate my soul yielding potent lusts
Unveiled as fair and foul, yet tempting still.
Quenching such as a river unending
Gives me short reprieve to settle a quill
To paper, words as they are, defending
Passions spent and unspent in glorious
Action and design for posterity.
Hera holds sway for those who art cautious,
By Jove, I endure selfish charity.
Nothing left to chance, life of luxury
Is a prison of willing revelry.
© George Galang February, 2001