Vale of Cashmere

Fueling the fire we walk in the rain,
Obstinate (a pair of Irish Francophiles);
Refraining, we skirt the ravine, restrained,
Bewildered amid the wilderness while
Immersed in fecundity, we traverse,
Double bound, the lavish Vale of Cashmere,
Delectably stuck, wondering what’s worse,
Ecstasy curbed or the Hell of being near?
Near, as you lay an arm round my shoulder,
Looking upward in that desperate way you do,
Open, shut, seething with the quiet smolder
Venus stokes, so much so, my lone hope is you,
Exactly now, beneath this cool green canopy,
Right here, amid the emerald mist, might kiss me