In whack

 

Bevy, plethora, array, row --

pattern, barely controlled.

 

Like sexy solar panels, a long line, 

laid back, each quite eager

 

to excite the grid, hot to go.

Mountain spring, pent up,

 

simpatico, pooled, ready to flow.

Downstream, a lithe wildflower,

 

in whack, about to discover

she has been sighing of thirst.

                              Timothy Pilgrim