A strict dictum binds my writing
and it’s hard, I can’t say much,
but I admit, my bright hyacinth,
with that parfum wafting such,
I am dizzy in my mix-up;
it can mystify guys in May,
infatuating us with whiffs
in air this stunning spring day,
attracting us with juicy buds,
disarming us with charms,
making us thirst with anguish -
I’m pining for hugging arms.
My daisy, my pansy, my zinnia,
attracting my mind with a kiss,
I am asking: impart sympathy
with my quandary, intriguing miss.
My dawn starts with bright sunrays,
my night wraps up dusky dark,
I’d say thanks if I was with a maid
watching stars in tall grass in a park.