Sonnet II

Underneath the ivy grows,
waving in the summer scene
a rose bush, with its yellow groves
brightening a wall of green.

Branches mingle, mix and blend,
a lovely bouquet forms amid
the ivy vines and thorny stand,
a conchord, growing lovers bed.

One does not concede the other,
twirling round each one’s advance,
rooted, wrapped, and then recovered,
to climax in a maddening dance.

Twisting green, with bloom and thorns
a spooning aftermath adorns.

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