Chardonnay and Me

Beside a pond, stiller
than a dream, we set
our picnic basket down,
she and I.

Overhead...
like silver streamers,
drifting Nimbus
courts the limestone
of the crags.

A frowning horizon
heralds the sweep...
a distant susurrus
of wings, grows
ever closer; a flock
of geese fret
a sullen skyline.

Nothing more I want.
Only this – right now;
a duo of amorous swans
defining the quietude
of a jet-black pool.

Then, she suggests
we trample down
some tangled tufts
of Meadow Foxtail;
bruise a patch or two
of Fragrant Orchid...

A sudden squall;
a passing shower...
Those velvet thighs,
so wet...so cool;
from a chalice
coloured cream
I drink my fill –
sweet Chardonnay.