Flights of fancy invade my mind.

You dangle before me like a strawberry,

waiting to be plucked by my lips.

A gentle tug releases you from stem,

love bites,

my tongue rolls around testing the texture of the fruit,

but who is eating who?

The berry explodes into a symphony of delights on my tongue;

body savours  breathtaking flavour.

Nourishing the very centre of my soul we touch,

flesh to flesh, writhing in lover’s motion.

I pray that this opus has yet to reach its crescendo.

Sensations dance,

dance a ballerinas step upon each taste bud.

With the touch of a butterfly you tease me.

More and more, our voices disturb the song thrushes,

hidden high in the cherry blossom.

Our pitch rises,

they take flight,

dew laden petals cascade,

just,

as the last note fades into the pale orange sunlight.

A breeze settles upon my moistened lips.

As dryness returns,

the memory of union,

that beautiful face,

carried away atop thrushes note.

I lick my lips,

perchance to bring you back,

but all hope fades.

Mourning images loss I turn on my side.

Moistened eyes catch a jewellery box,

a picture of you and a Valentine card.

Dinner for two!

Could all this be ours today?

Say, “Yes”, today,

my Valentine girl.

 

©Phil Golding 02/09