Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Evening picnic





















A trail of rose petals
from garage door to bed,
you waiting on your knees,
a big grin on your face

but a little worry in your eyes
that I might not 'like' this.

Oh, but I did, my love.

The bed draped with a red checked cloth
red plates, red napkins, red-faced...

A tray arrayed in red fabric
with strawberries, olives, almonds
assorted meats, cheeses, crackers

After an appropriate dress code is achieved,
he slowly hand feeds me our dinner picnic
talking quietly about our respective days

loving each other with each word, each bite,
each touch, each moment

Gentle spoonfuls of mango sorbet
complete our repast

The only ants are the two pomeranians
circling the base of the bed,
hoping for a bite.

(Written and posted for Mid-Week Motif, Poets United, "Picnic", 5/25/16)

9 comments:

  1. Well, there must always be ants to view the fun and take a few crumbs. Very romantic. How could you not like this.

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  2. How lovely! A recipe to share, including the surprise and daring of it. Thank you.

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  3. Such a romantic response to the prompt :D

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  4. How wonderful. Never have I experienced such a thing.........love the two Pomeranians, too.

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  5. No better picnic, even when we pretend. Beautiul poem!

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  6. Damn! I think I've missed my chance to do that now.

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  7. What a sensual write - sounds like a very satisfying picnic

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  8. Beautiful scene.. love and food, what more does one need!

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