Orpheus Fantasizes Poem by Leonard Kress

Springtime: violent odors of musk, the scent
of tender temala sprouts and mango blossoms
gripped by vernal creepers. Lord Krishna comes
alone upon the girls, husbands absent,
who've gathered by this copse of clove, beneath
the neat bakuta branches. One whose hips
sway in secret message, one whose lips
pull at his garments. Lakshmi's saffron wreath
and sweating full and palpitating breasts,
and one whose eyes are spotless lotus petals.
Crazed and feverish with love, not one will settle
for anything less than Krishna's rapturous tryst.
Oh why, Jayadeva, did you never pick
Orpheus for your lays, never compose an Orphic?