Making Love Over the Cliff

Making Love Over The Cliff Edges of the wool blanket ripple Wave on the breeze in the fever of the wind A parade of plaid, reds greens and blue The lovers lay there for hours Wrapped in warmth, in bliss, on the high mountain There, on the jutting cliff edge, with their soft kisses Out on the ledge overlooking the vast ocean Yellow silk scarf beating on the woman’s flesh Her red dress comes off suddenly on trembling fingers Naked on the mountain top that sees a distant lighthouse It watches back from out at sea Cloaked in bright orange and green One hungry yellow beaming eye of light Spins day and night on open waves Scanning for intruders on this mystery Love in the afternoon is nice It is the spice of life Red wine leads into passion On the cliff on mountain top