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Poem

He was laboriously looking 
for that one perfect peach
with soft salubrious skin, 
radiantly rounded with
robust, rubicund curves,
crying to be caressed, 
coddled and cuddled.
Her bashfully blushing rosy red 
cheeks on pale peach skin
immediately caught his attention
as she sat right there for the picking!
Oh, to kiss those juicy joyful 
lovely lips, again and again!
She stood out among her friends 
who were gathered in hues of green. . . 
For she was ruddy, regal 
and romantically ripe--his type!
Her body sweetly, softly stimulating,
and so tantalizingly tender to the touch;
Her sensual scent, pure peach!
When he held her in his arms
and she coyly conversed, 
he had vestige visions of
copious cobbler on his mind!

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