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Date Posted:20:31:22 07/14/01 Sat Author: An Old Friend Subject: Zesty Ice.
Zesty Ice.
Frozen water, slowly following
the wealthy contours of your mouth,
leaving traces of shiny moist
and making you wish, I'd turn south.
You swallow the teasing pain,
as I make it softly rain,
although there are no clouds,
above your hilly terrain.
From your erecting mountaintops
run little streams of melted heats,
tears of joy, gathering in shallow puddles,
waiting to be licked by tongued heeds.
Gently I lick your craving pleads,
heading south for the final more,
landmark for the hardened ones,
aiming for the valley,
to deliver and plant the seeds.
Stiffened I roam the bushy plains
that circle to embrace the canyon below,
laying wide spread and very open,
slightly damp, vaporizing intoxicating strains.
Eventually you will let me trip and make me fall,
sliding down the slippery walls head over heels,
but you also guarantee to grab hold of me secure,
guiding me into the deep, encouraging me to stall.
Then, like a goddess mounted on a horse,
you take me for a ride, softly dancing
on the pounding rhythms of cadence,
steering my senses on a sensational course.
