It was ecstatic electricity. <br />That touch of velvety, delicious skin, <br />the sun had, reasonably, retreated <br />and in the forest we felt wild and free. <br /> <br />Though Gina was my cousin - next of kin. <br /> <br />It's rather sad, I do not see her much, <br />but when I do she smiles a kiss for me, <br />and soon we're seen, just walking through the trees, <br />it's so much easier to reminisce. <br /> <br />No electricity - without the touch. <br /> <br />I tell her then about the morning moon. <br />The day I peeked before the farming chores, <br />it's good for many moments of sheer bliss, <br />and then, we talk about the birds and bees. <br />And end up on the castle's granite bench, <br />just talking, laughing, being kids again. <br />'Til Dawn arrives, a chill has found our knees, <br />it's time to go, we know, I deftly pick <br />a bunch of purple flowers (trade for smile) . <br /> <br />Downhill it is - I use my walking stick. <br /> <br />It always is my mother who objects <br />when two first cousins of a certain age <br />go off into the blackness of the woods. <br />She says that decency surely reflects <br />upon the human being who observes <br />the values of her generation's past. <br /> <br />Her spectacles do judge all blossoms now. <br /> <br />But really, my Gina has the goods. <br />My mother is a carrier of nerves <br />that vacillates from peace into wild rage. <br />And once again, she's either least or last. <br /> <br />Was that the fragrant burping - of an Angus cow?<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gina-again/
