Summer Lovin'

Eyes meet once.
Beat everyone hears--bud appears.
The moon takes full force,
like premature tears.

The bud begins to shed some skin
with the meeting of lips--like no other trip
and fireworks fly,
and open it rips.

Full bloom is beautiful
hand in hand--plans will stand.
The rain has stopped,
and the scent lost again.

Just barely, they say
though their fingers entwined--first sip of wine
the sand slips to rock bottom
fresh out of time.