Time I yearn,
For us to the Riviera to go
Where mellow by the shadow
Of your mystique I would become.
Time, when louder
Than festival drums our taut
Hearts would as one beat and in the
Deepest sea of revelry swim.
My ravenous heart
With a scythe in hand through
The ravine, it’s feet to your heart,
As a bed of roses, would hasten,
For it’s fragrance to harvest and relish.
A time in a sequestered scenic
Rivulet where my sullen heart
Into a languid inferno would plunge
By a sensation that would be propelled
By the sight of your sexy lingerie,
By your spandex bared.
When our fissured hearts
Would suture and as
A leaf helplessly falls, in love
Would we again fall.
Entered for carol brown's sponsored contest, PICNIC TIME.