In a Matrimonial Rut

A bird sang from the upper branches of an oak
Beneath that, a porcupine bristled his quills
Completely bored, I drank another beer
Despite the fact my beer supply was nearly finished
Eagle-eyed, I knew about the bourbon in the shed
Forsaken once but not forgotten
Gentle, and always pure, you tried to hide it
Hrumph, I said, like always
In perfect key, the bird kept right on singing
Just like a lazy minstrel, I remarked, in the summer woods
Know what? you said, sipping tea like a vestal virgin
Lazy minstrels drink like fish
Must I find my lute and show you? I replied
No, just kiss me, you smiled
Poetically, and I fell into your eyes with glowing
Rapture, falling like the sanguine
Sun at sunset, I grazed your lips
Tenderly, all pretense draining from our bodies
Unlike the porcupine, spiky
Vegan mammal that he was
Wrangling in the bush, perhaps, but not
X-rated, like your tongue, slinking toward my tonsils
Yowza, a glorious kiss, I thought
Zoological, like rutting badgers