The unquantifiable value of PM AM poetry

I wrote this poem at the Willow Starbucks in 2011 to a lady I saw.
I showed it to the ICD Maureen Finlan and she really liked it.

I guess it could be applied to the unquantifiable quality of PM.

In the forest is the deer and doe;
And the trees move with wind swept flow;
Swaying to and fro in the warm spring air;
With the gentle wind, a love affair?;
They talk to each other like lovers do;
In words that only nature knows, far and few;
Can know the melodies of their dance;
Hiding their love in a strong stance;