Adulation Bombastry

In a daze of phlogiston and aether
and steampunk chunks of yesteryear vapor
I wrote love sonnets just to bequeath her
on a myriad of fine craft paper...
all for the castles in her maven sky
of woolgathering watercolor drops
the sunbeams brought to her passage bird eye
from lupine fields and fresh Aegilops.

She the canny nymph, and I the satyr,
who hoped she'd take a turn upon my flute
somewhere in my cavorting to mate her
or nurse the dew from her paradise fruit...

raised in that old Virginia for lovers
she already knew what grace discovers!