I caught you grooming earlier,
nose fixed to your fur,
engrossed in washing cheeks
and nether regions,
intent on looking clean,
and sharp, and able
for another
behind a rose bush,
shyly peering out.
When both of you had gone,
I spread a lovers’ feast
of leafy greens and ripened berries
through the clover,
knowing you’d return
when no one would be there to see
your dusk-tinged tryst,
or lament its fertile course.
Nature? Or enchantment?
But aren’t they the same?
©2021 All Rights Reserved
Barbara Froman 
Sweet and charming! I do hope you shared this poem with them.
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Definitely! Thank you! 😉
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Lovely and a bit whimsical, Barbara. I bet the feast was appreciated.
~nan
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I expect so, Nan. All the treats were gone. Many thanks for your kind words. ❤️
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