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Click hereOh come my juicy smooth skinned orange-red fruit
your sweetness only upon my tongue when fully ripe,
your luscious flavour my lips cannot refute.
Persimmon a name to roll across and wipe
your succulence around my open waiting mouth
drips of nectar juicing down my slender pipe.
Not catching all, now sliding further south
wantonly exuding a golden precious cargo
spilling around each breast an unseemly routh.
Begins to ooze, tickle spreads smooth and slow
parting at each mound and flows through the alley,
temptation's fruit so full to overflow.
Hasten licking lips follow and do not dally
lest such abundance finds a deeper valley.
Poetry Survivor
Terza Rima trigger 12