White Night

I sit at the auburn table by the window sill,
with my notebook opened before me.
My fingers trace the bumpy design of the Pegasus,
etched into the sleek surface of the desk.
Pondering about what to put on the paper, I stare at the grapevine,
entwining itself on the fence outside the windowpane,
when suddenly my eyes are drawn to you.
Upon seeing you, any unpleasant emotions vanished.
An odoriferous scent overwhelms me,
not a fetid odour, but a rather pleasant one.
A saccharine flavour floods my mouth.
It was so precipitous, a series of emotions flowed through me.
A mellifluous tune fills my ears,
its dulcet tone bringing a velvety image with it.
For a fleeting moment, I see a glorious aurora in my thoughts.
I notice your beauty and feel a surge of covetousness.
You stand in the serene clearing, bathed in a gentle moonlight,
a magnificent white iris flower.
In that moment I realize what I wished to compose,
a breathtaking sonnet about a whirlwind romance.