Does a four leaf clover,

Know its own Beauty,

In the Spring of midnights,

A gypsy sways,

Like a Ballerina butterfly,

From flower to flower,

Upon the passionate winds,

of her Romance,

And my love is the garden,

Of all her loves,

Someone talented as Matisse,

And Nice and sweet as riviera waves,

For me and her,

And the sun and the moon,

Paint her a grass field,

of four leaf clovers,

Golden with stars,

Sultry as a bouquet of melodious roses,

With the sparkling diamonds,

Of her sighs,

Shimmering kisses,

Of her silly and exquisite Beauty,

Infinite with our love,

Paint it like jazz melodies,

Hymning,

For the enchanted waterfalls,

Of her sensuous Soul,

Perhaps and absolutely,

Her Beauty shall be compassionate,

Sweet, and warm like the Rain,

And her love light another candle,

While the Rose moonlight,

Kisses the green clovers,

her hips unwind its crescents,

And the irises and lillies,

Serenade the cherry blossoms,

Pretty as ballerinas,

Leisurely,

lounging by the shore

Reynaldo Casison

'Songs of Pleasures and longing'

'Starbright, Beauteous woman'

'Romantic Love Poems'