Tonight I heard the stars call out,

And though I thought the moon was deaf,

It answered back in sly sibilants,

Catcalls from some forgotten cleft.

There the protoplanetary disc,

There the rainbow turbid cloud,

Caught in Messier forty-two,

Spoke as if they called out loud.

Looked askance, the sun was gaining,

And I was trapped in endless track,

Yet, through a misbegotten winter’s frost,

I saw spring, March has no turning back.

She glowed at me, with eyes afire,

Passion, love, and earthy gaze

Her neck, a-tilt, betrayed desire

Watch, just how her neck scarf lays.

Melting choc’late, slow and sweet,

I’m lost somewhere inside their flame,

Such a sweet and sudden drowning,

My bubbles rise to chant her name.

She was always framed in silk,

Aglow on blue hued satin sheets,

Her pink and white light up the night

Where braille and signing meets.

There were those tender offered treats,

Sweet, yet sugarless confections,

All lips, and tips, and smooth skin trips,

Where lovers make connections.

One zany, rainy afternoon,

I chased her through a warm cloud spray,

We biked until our clothes peeled off,

Just one less thing found in the way.

There somewhere between the sibilants,

Came gasping pulchritude in kisses,

When long before the summer’s end,

The star-eyed silph became a missus.