
A Fruit of Passion, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
The southern window
Presented her sublime glow
Studied her movement
Of a perfect pendulum
With not a fear of boredom
Timed with morning breeze
Every action she did please
Oh to caress her
Bring to my lips so gently
Lingering there patiently
But to know her first
She must know for her I thirst
Of countless many
She’s the one for whom I wait
It is she who spins my fate