A la Cartland

A sunset, like a maiden's blush,
Decrees the onset of the dark
Where in the meadow, rich and lush,
A man stands proudly in his park.

Serene, despite the fading light,
He serenades his lady fair:
Diaphanous, the cloak of night
Descends upon him from the air.

The urgency of passion's pent
Within a mystery of joy
Suffusing all to whom is sent
A talent to be truly coy.

The midnight tolls; the shadows haste;
Who plays the faithful suitor, wins;
And Love is passionately chaste,
If lovers take their vitamins.

From the book Send-Up