There is work to be done
But not today
My seductress calls
Over the dunes, her siren song floats
I find my way along the shore
Soft foam spray licking my toes
I will pluck seashells
From their sandy treasure chest
And fashion them into a necklace
To nestle between her breasts
Next to a freckle
A kiss from the sun
A caramel drop of burnt sugar
Upon my tongue
Her pale first blush of spring
Is now a golden round belly
Her lap a soft pillow for my head
I watch swirls of clouds drift gently
My thirst is quenched by her mouth
Sweet with nectar
My hunger sated by her body
Ripe with pleasure
There is work to be done
But not today
LiNdA
I came across this wonderful picture recently, and thought it would be perfect to go with this poem. Sadly, I haven’t been able to find who took this lovely image, but I will keep searching so I can give proper credit to the photographer! Giving thanks and gratitude in the meanwhile . . .
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