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emma green
Poems
Jan 2014
That heady mix
here mid the ripest, rawest thoughts
we touch the silk smooth skin of
luscious fruited feasts to come
my feet are barely placed to dance
such mischief needs in teasing taste -
that call of honeyed saffron sway
breeze blows the heady mix of
man and mate, full awed of now
on bed daubed sweet in midnight's stir
the blade awaits its stealthy move,
soft sighs, then powders space to dust
and, sighing low, we start to melt
our table set and scented tallow lit
stars gasp full argent paused applause,
we wait, anticipate.. and eat yet more
Written by
emma green
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