Tryst

The moonlight whispers in my ears,
“Psst…a handsome youth awaits,
His era of waiting abates,
Let him just be proffered your presence,
His floral kiss on your soul will pour the ambrosial nectar’s essence.
The stars are in favour of a tryst,
Extirpate the doubtful mist.
Don’t avert your gaze from the spree ,
Eschew the beauty that beckons thee.
Your soulamte awaits love,
Run towards him you pretty dove.”