Orbital (fourth position)
By alphadog1
- 1251 reads
In bating strokes of now decreasing orbits,
She floats into view from the warming rise.
Her fine sinews, are hidden by sharp flutters,
That slowly twist in elipitical flirts that climb;
While the bloom - once prone- in nights cold slumber,
Then starts awake to face this: her rising golden dawn.
With each considered and complete caress,
she strokes her, parting her soft petal flesh.
That slowly opens with the slightest of sighs,
which then rises to force the stilling of time;
To now with the rising reach of thier slow aching limbs,
That even causes the dawn birds softcall to slowly dim.
To here: where triumphantly, and without burden
Her long strong spear will leave a welcome kiss,
As she then suckles as she slowly penetrates.
To engorge with more than the merest hint of bliss
And so finaly to shine in their divine nakedness.
And so to perhaps their just reward:-
The secret gift of pollen and nectar deep
That tastes so delicious and just so sweet.
© adh2015
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