Love Birds

Here is my lovey dovey scene! I'm going to post again with explanation, justification, and evidence for my choices. Sorry it's a lot of text. We will probably have to cut it for the recording of the storyboard, but I figure I'd give it what I got.

[enter Ortegia]

Puck:

Oh here we are met and a rhyme it begs

For thou hast been gone from me for so long.

Oh my fair, my sweet, apple of mine eye

It is not by chance that by this tree we meet.

For I see in thee the fruit of sweet love.

How this hath an affect on me, inside,

'Tis a red fruit plucked from this very thorn.

And like a true thorn it poisons me more.

Can I beg from thee thine pure and perfect,

True antidote for my heart's very heart?

For such an one can only come from thee

who also anointed me originally.

Then when these love potions mix, synergy

Will increase them, thine and mine, finally.

Then would it taste complete and be to us

The brightest shape and savor of we.

Ortegia:

I know not thy tongue nor thoughts nor forest.

Sayest thou that I am thine own sweetest?

Sayest thou that one can give curse and cure?

And how is it that I come to harm thee

When all my efforts are to pleas and ease thee?

Puck:

Yes, this thine scene was what hit me strongly.

And so strangely was I crippled by thee.

In deed I illustrate just that. Thy charm

Was in thine beauty that all the trees and

Spirited shadows cannot equal.

Still to me it, like a blossoming bud,

Shown as that white rose in wait, withholding

Somewhat but shaking in the dancing wind.

For fleeting was the air that would wait and 

Send forth thy sweet perfume under the moon.

With these changing drafts and weather, thy bloom

Withered. I found thee fainting in my arms.

Ortegia:

Oh good man can you tell me this effect,

With a whirling tale as sweetly whispered?

If this flow'r was meant to fruit, did it so?

Was it the head and tail, the fixed issue.

Puck:

My fair fairy friend, thou dost understand.

Fall did  ripen the effect of the start.

It's a gift that was readied for reaping.

It's the form by which union is formed.

The fruition of the sweetest figure.

It's my song of one joining one more and

the two becoming such an one as would

Confound all other changing cords seeking

Strikes and hiss' that pull away affection.

Ortegia:

And to thine will I add a spell, my song.

The notes will strike, the bells go chiming so.

Music will rise and undo the fallen

Coupled with noises will heal the stricken.

We will the lords and ladies be charming.

Celebration of the end result

Ending the flirts of what was first, those times

Of sweetness to be more deepened in love.

Such will be the rarest state of spirit

And mind that was touched by the highest taste.

Deeper disposition of affection

Will yet be yielded from my flower's fruit.

Puck:

Oh dear Ortegia, how I love thee so.

Ortegia:

My forest fairy, Robin Goodfellow,

Will thou wait for me?

The affected time will fly by for us both

Due to the rare state of spirit and mind.

Then with timing and season we can be

Soring as love birds through eternity.

Puck:

For my flitting will time be fleeing me,

They cannot abide my mind and heart

For these have been tweaked by a sweet poison.

I will wait for thee.

For then wilt thou see my winged love for thee

As I have perceived thy sweet love for me.

Ortegia:

I will return because of thee and we.