Her blossoms flaunts she

For all to see,

Male and female alike.

Showing how ripe,

To be taken at night,

Or as best of the day as can be!


When she wavers close by

To touch a bare thigh;

Her lustre is open to all.

The brush sends a call;

Come; press to the wall;

Taste sweetly the scent of the fly.


Once opened, she pouts;

A tease to the trout;

Swimming quickly upstream;

In search of the cream;

Raised over the beam;

To spread such delicacy out.


Her tendrils well moistened

Entwine; and like poison

Dart into the darkened cleft;

To savour and flavour the depth

Of lips and forced breath;

To the buds of bosom imprisoned.


When the tide has passed;

And the strength at last

Drawn fully to satisfy;

Then the need to lie

Spent, momentarily aside;

Plans easily for the next cast.


July 1991. © Will George.

Will George Poet