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Excuse this... I think a certain French, Rimbaudish, author is influencing my verse more then he should... The sleepy rhymes of July could put an insomniac asleep.

The Hills Beside the Bluffs

There are some hills beside the bluffs
Where we once, as children, roamed;
Their grass of green stands vast apart
From golden fields that hugged their base—
While their long, laborious arms
Reached wide and, silent, drank the rain.

We once canopied among those clefts—
Don’t you recall, I surely do—
I held your hand while we both slept
Beneath a violent swirl of stars,
We sipped the mists that surrounded
The passion fruits of our delights.

Fireflies indulging poison
Swooned in stupors around us then,
As we both loved so brazenly
Beneath a jealous, bulging moon—
There: near at those hills beside the bluffs
Where we once, as children, roamed.