Mild and Full of Promise

On summer days, she wakens before dawn;
Heat rises mild and full of promise; bright
Hints of the coming warmth will gild sunlight
And strike prismatic glories; these will form
The patterns on the panes that coincide
With inner moods that so pattern her heart,
So she can’t tell the difference and is smart
Enough to just rejoice and to decide
To strike out from sweet squalor after dusk,
When limbs get twisted underneath the sheets
And lips will blend in a familiar lock,
She loves these kissing chances, and she must,
Soon feel the passion rising, as she treats
Him, mild and full of promise, taking stock…