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that tall, haughty sista
cool, smart aspidistra,
spied, tickled her a wild flower,
'let's take the air...for just an hour'.
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they danced along the primrose path...
strayed, by the brook (he made her laugh)
that batchelor's buttons came undone...
'my, oh, my', she cried, 'this sure is fun'
oh, the stamen, ah, the pistil....
(never mind the jealous thistle...
he's a cousin, but can't whistle)
the inner whorl of perianth
was pierced by joy, a welcome lance...
she sipped his nectar, sweet and good...
the goddess fed (he knew she would)
eventide crept..... and all was still.....
she smiles, now, on her windowsill......
delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........
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| Comments about this poem (Floralicious by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........) |
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Floralicious by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........)
Greenwolfe 1962 (3/28/2008 4:38:00 PM)
God, I wish all sex was that good! I wanna be a flower. Either
that, or spend more time with nature.
GW62 |
Alison Cassidy (3/15/2008 2:24:00 AM)
This reads like a story of a well breed oriental who spends a steamy night on the tiles with a stray moggy So clever. You charm the reader with your wit and botanical wisdom.
'(never mind the jealous thistle...
he's a cousin, but can't whistle) '
The result is positively enchanting. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ |
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