By Wil C. Fry, Dec. 15, 2002

Copyright © 2002 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.

The door into Summer; gate to Paradise
Fills us in our hearts and in our eyes
When, upon touching beautiful flesh,
Two ‘twined hearts begin to mesh
To some for love, and some for pleasure
Bountiful bounty, though none can measure
Burned hearts sometimes can bloom
Given sunshine and enough room
Innocent souls also are crushed, split
By the sheer weight of the action, and it
Never seems to be enough for the lustful
Always yet too much for naďve and trustful

Twinkling set of eyes, wide with expectation
Darkened later into sinister retaliation
Smooth of skin and wetness of perspiration
Yet nothing can taint this confederation

Humanity enjoy and religion ban
Shyness stutters, yet no one can
Through trying the slightest rift make
Nor God’s loveliest precious gift break

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