Please promise me that you will never tell
about that kiss that day down by the well,
the way cool water passed between sweet lips,
or how I yielded to soft fingertips.
Don't whisper of how swiftly virtue fell
with commonsense and camisole as well
to lie forgotten as spring parted me
with words and wondrous tongue so wickedly.
Yes, promise me that you will never tell
about what passed that day down by the well.
For if you do, I shall be forced to claim
to be sinned against . . . and name your name.
So, see silence be golden after all
and never speak a word of what you saw.
Linking to Open Link Monday at Real Toads