As the moonlight gently touches the fruitLaying on the ground It prompts itselfIn the airWaitingWaiting for the oneTo taste its delight.Only for the chanceTo come from behindTo kneel before itTo examine this lovely peach.To savor the sweet aroma Of its juices.If for one momentThe moist nectar would drip down the chinAs I devour between its glory.May it be in that moment We both have our fill.You just inspired my next poem.Thank youMark The Male Casting Couch
Thank you, Mark.I'm delighted my image inspired your stirring poem, your sensual words as sweet as nectar.
Guess I've been preoccupied, Tomass. THANK YOU for the lovely moonlight reverie...and all your delightful "full moons." Heh heh. (Groan).
You're welcome, Jeffrey.I'm fortunate a little editing can create a moonlight effect. Were I to venture into the forest at night, there's no telling what might attempt a 'lunar landing.'