Solomons Memory

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth flavored by his best aged wine pressed from the sweetest of the vineyard grapes. I close my eyes - my spirit hears my beloved drawing near strength as the steads of Pharoahs Chariot - soft as a turtledove Behold it comes leaping upon mountains, skipping upon the hills As a young stag prancing towards its doe. His statue as the apple tree among the trees of the woods As I sit to take my rest in his masculine shade- his left hand is under my head as his right embraces me. Outlining my form with the tip of his strong precise finger. Our lips prepare to seal destiny but, I awaken instead With only a scent of Lebanons Cedar..