Come to fruition
The night is on a solitary journey
The lights are out
The moon is snoozing
behind the clouds
The stars loitering somewhere
in the celestial realms;
So, why don’t you come over
whisper sweet nothings in my ear
tickle me pink.
The night is young and willing
a myriad desires welling up,
Come, rush pell-mell
and blow me away,
Start the ball rolling
be the king of the lawn
the monsoon clouds
are bursting at the seams
open the floodgates,
Come, let’s sow some wild oats
and reap the fruits of our labor
before the night falls from grace.