I smile, and Adam comes to me.
Together in this sheltered grove
We walk and whisper warily
These pale foreshadowings of love.
We loiter in the shade and see
Two lights that burn in fury, where
The roots of the forbidden tree
Do not disguise the serpent’s stare.
But still I ask him in delight
To pluck the apple from the tree,
And, smiling now to mask his fright,
My Adam slowly turns from me.