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At Their Manor House, Outside Ravenna
Our house is in a meadow filled with flowers.
There, we are wont to spend some sunlit hours
of summers blazoned, cloudless, casual days.
Surrounding all that, ancient walls and hedges
protect the whole estate and mark its edges:
the height of them prevents perverted gaze.
Clad only in our stockings---his opaque
and purple; mine more white and rather sheer---
but otherwise unclothed and nearly bare,
we revel in the licit love we make,
the almost naked pleasures that we share,
having a peace far from our families' feud,
not Capuleted and not Montagued;
and, toward Verona, neither wish nor fear.
Starward
[jlc]
