Intoxication

We drink mouthfuls of
thick Monbazillac wine,
its almost treacle sweetness
sliding smoothly as
glasses overfill.
How we laugh,
a pannier filled
with feastings
and a warm sun
imbibing us with the
hilarity of living love
as copious quantities
of birds humming
in tune to us.
Lying out,
limbs browning like
a sauce that
marinades in our
own special recipe.
We share the wine
between kisses then
intoxicated we fall
silent and sleep
under a canopy of trees.




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 535 times
Written on 2008-01-11 at 11:08

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lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
Elle this summer scene takes me back yto my youth when I hung about with a plethora of nubile beauties and my pals and I decided which one we would marry. a lovley poem and your own brand of nostalgia rgds mike welcome back to the bay
2008-01-11


Rob Graber
ah oui mademoiselle, le panier, le panier d'abondance: c'est la vie, me semble...
2008-01-11