A Dream Poem by Terry Dawson

How lovely she looks by the firelight there
Voluptuous woman with her raven hair.
With beckoning finger: hey plowman draw near,
In low loving murmurs she whispers his ear.

There's a furnace within her where great fire burns
Her smooth skin glows hotly; a wonderment churns
In heart of the plowman who grows in desire
At the smoldering temptress who sets him on fire.

And into the cauldron unheeding they go
United in rhythm as hot as it's slow
Till dawn by the fire in mutual embrace
The passion-spent plowman has sight of her face.