asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,
asklepiades
asklepiades

...of peaches and romance

          born in the sticky summer
     with hair of a gold-brown bushel
                   and hands sun-spotted

           the days gently freckle your skin
      spin round as a falling leaflet
      sing loud for the harvest moon

            you love like the beaches do
               salt wind blowing full in your face
       heat wave but the crops keep growing
         eating peaches by the shaded pine

 i'm caught playing a banjo slow tune
        a dream i had in a field of white sand
    the yellow sun and the green sung reed song
  you sing with me on this sun-struck night
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