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