A bed of moss

A wilderness of desire
	just entered,
	exuding
	a welcoming smell,
	the perfume of Nature's boudoir
	laced with human sweat.
Cupid's soft, mossy bed,
	embroidered green and gold,
	sweet, woodsy velvet,
	fringed with 
	moist meadow lace,
	finely webbed leaves,
	luring
	maple sugar from a tree.
Each blade of grass
	softly licking
	every bloom,          
tendrils of ripening vines
	dripping a bee's honey.
Seductive clouds
	of summer heat
	embrace
	this budding refuge.
 
Lying down here
	interlocked
		growing together,
	We grow thick.