In the scent of a honeysuckle morn
come lay with me my love
let our vines of entwining bodies
fit snug as a wet smooth glove

In the afterglow of the horizon
the sun is blushed with heat
and the dew is upon the grass
and the day is the color of wheat

In the breeze the trumpet honeysuckle
blooms a tune so sweet with song
the fruits of the day become blessings
enjoying honeysuckle all day long
c.99/SyberRose