Nector's scent intoxicates me.
Her Kisses bait me
to the succulent feast that awaits me.
In between the limbs of this peach tree
I see... A seed that pleads
for release of it's need.
Is it greed that moves my silent speech?
As I'm so giving hoping my words will reach
ears that hear not yet understand.
Intuition guides my hands...
And the peach plans
to share it's juice.
From the tip of the branch
to the roots its lets loose
violently shaking it's branches thin
from the whirlwind within
My appetite endless
No shortage of fruit to end this...
By: Soul's Floetry