I saw her in the blueberry fields;
a Latin sylph, cerulean in moonlight,
robed in loose silk and lace,
pirouetting among the purple.
At first glance, she winked at me,
then a whisper, a come-here finger,
a pearly smile summoning me
to join her under Georgia's stars.
Beautifully reckless, barefooted,
we sprinted the hushed space,
embracing in the perfect place,
a scented circle ~ strangely jasmine.
Under the southern Dixie sky,
we shared a magical moment,
again in love, again imagined,
dancing a midnight lambada.