An afternoon saga

'  how do they feel whence thy hands thou lay?'
She asked me one afternoon , seizing the day
As it was slowly gliding down her nape, her breasts,
There the slanted light was taking a sleepy rest,
As rest on the meadows green flowers taking sun beams,
Taking dew too as they make a descend slow
Her hair found I how on her shoulders did flow
Cascading , rippling thing, brown and tantalising,
Somewhere there  had been an absorbing  scene
Of a green valley decked by seasonal flowers wild
Somewhere there the heavenly painter drew like a child
With curious strokes of brush , meadows quite lush
And I seeing all that was just about to gush
Forth all that was coming to my throat,
Songs of communion, songs of boat,
And other things, like a portion of the Holy Book
Bible was all in my hands I took,

And she poured wine red red in the glass
Seizing the day , I thought time's chariot shouldn't pass
Such an afternoon of winter, young and green
Such wonderous painted calming a scene.