I watch you
on this sultry afternoon
over under the flowering plum
back to the bark,
head bent over your
well loved acoustic,
fingers plucking,
stroking, strumming,
fondling... those strings
and I hear the notes
as they drift on the
breeze...
as I hang the bedsheets
on the washing line
the melody is
sweet, sweet seduction...
foreplay in three/four time
and I see in my mind
what those fingers...
strong, scarred and flexible
can do...
to places sacred, tender
and oh! so divine...
followed by lips and mouth and all....
divinity sublime and more....