My love smells like petrichor
fane of the first rain’s bless
on the grass of our content.
Summer brings days so parched
only your love may refresh
my thirst for passion’s bliss.
Rainbow accented showers fall
releasing the bouquet of adoration
from the rocks with ichor mixed.
Nothing lasts for the season full
treasures fall out of hand
too far from the schnozzle's reach
The relief may fall out of hand
echoing fragrance forgotten once
the trace of rain has passed away.
2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160912.