under a willow

i sit...
i am thinking of you.
the splatter of the rain, soaking,
the wet is all absorbed...
spring comes into play
with each warming day.
the excitement fills,
your nipples grow with that gentle breeze.
bringing the mind to the dance
the gentle of your hips, now move with your ease.
did i tell you i am thinking of you?
willows grow new leaves...
along the creek,
the growth rubs just above the knees.
look around,
it's all that we believe.
see the sprouting of the budding trees.
the trickle of the spring...
over the rocks...
the melting snow has come,
marrying and mirroring the spring rain
the beauty, how nature does frame.
i think of you,
white clouds and the streaks of varying blue, whipping hues.
how my dreams reflecting the days of which our poetry read true.
the touch of the hand
the swiftness of our touches
only to be slowed by each and every caress.
springtime at its best.
would you meet me?
meet me between the rustling weeds.