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Click hereAfter painting all day, a bath she drew
in a porcelain tub on clawfoot high,
coating bared windows with a steamy dew,
and the crystal of Chardonnay nearby.
Bubbles gurgle, hot froth forming from plume;
floral aroma floating as thick mist;
radiant flames gleaming around the room:
pure luxury for a starving artist.
Envious of the gown pooled at her feet,
candlelight falling on pearly white skin,
fragrance-bearing waters parting to greet
those glorious curves and spaces within.
Were I but aqueous lavender heat.
or, better, her waiting satiny sheet.