Although she had beheld his splendor many times before, it new failed to stir her passion.

He had been weeding the tomato patch,
She had walked outside to gather a batch.
He stood barechested, muscles rippling in the sun's glow,
His sight stirred her desire, she wanted him so.
She threw her arms around him, breathing in his scent,
To make love amid the tomatoes, was her intent.
He laid her down on the soft earth and caressed her hair,
They made sweet love, in gentle abandon, without care.
They had made love many times before, twas true ,
Passion had always filled them, making each time brand new.
As before, this time was magic, a rare love so hard to find,
The tomatoes saw it all, but they paid no mind.