Ocean's tenderness by Anne Howe Tenderly he strokes her fine grained garment
With waves, lapping around her curved form
Emitting, as he does so, a sharp saltness
Which at that same moment, bathes my own lips
With the errant kiss of two timing nature
EarthÂ’s own body scents become entangled in my hair
Sticky rosebud to touch
And tossed by the fingers of the wind it falls
In palm frond obliqueness
On my glowing flesh
Eagerly the sea envelops her again
Mounting like the Royal steed
His merry whinny heard echoing in his rippling retreat
And I await my turn to be wrapped
In the odours of his depths
And caressed by his moist presence
With such passion does this courtly prince
Address us both.
Her beckoning is calm, still and golden
Mine but a frolicking fantasy of youth
08/10/2002 Posted on 08/10/2002 Copyright © 2024 Anne Howe
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