She lays her radiant mane
Golden orange flames fanning
A Delta of locks
Next to my pillow
Rosy budded Nipples
Erect with pleasure
Poised for more
Blissful floods overtaking
Yet, she is dreaming.
Pleasure predicted
Remembered
Waking in fields of poppies she grasps at their straws
Fingers caressing their morning dew
Ah, the famous field
Beyond ideas
Beyond right and wrong
I see golden poppies
Shimmering amidst waves of wind
Oceanic thought landscapes
Her summer dress hiked up to her womanly hip
To feel riots of poppy hands massage
Her thighs
Mystery and mischief held in glimmering eyes
Spontaneous dance erupting from within
Playful creation itching to begin