Scheherazade, I lie before you, panting

drowning in your well of sweet ambrosia

lunacy engulfs my staid composure

snared within your silken web enchanting

Open petalled lips and bid me enter

hold me tightly, do your solstice duty

dedicate the season to your beauty

form the star and take me as its center

Hold me, thrill me, kiss me in this hour

frolic round the pole until you shiver

stabbing you with darts from Cupid's quiver

evermore to hold you in my power

Tremble in this breeze the gods are blowing

take these summer seeds my love is sowing

more of my sonnets HERE