He and She.

He took her hand and led her in the meadow,
and lay beside her under the diminishing fires of the sky.
He looked at her when she kissed him gently,
He gazed stunned when she whispered, “Your dreams are mine.”
He took her hand and led it to his heart,
For her to feel his heart racing.
And when there was nothing more left for them
they took to eye gazing.
The dragonflies zoomed in and about,
and the moth danced in the flames of the lamps
But it bothered them as much only
As the dew that left their sartorial damp.
The even wind blew in winds and tufts,
and lifted her silky smooth hair
and tousled his big brown flocks
In the way of their cozy, pupil of a lair.
Oft the hum of those lousy insects,
Left them both with cheeks red,
But much of it wasn’t redness from the insects,
It was the proximity of their coy heads.
And when the shallow dawn arose
they weren’t just two lovers,
they were ones who had glanced the souls
that hid under the misleading covers. 
It was that one perfect moment,
when ‘he’ was derivative of s’he’
and she just added to the marvel
of his beholding beauty.

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