#197) Flowerchild

Her garden blooms with all manner of flowers,
I wander from blossom to blossom in rows.
Big, pink peonies explode like skyrockets with a thousand petals,
I envelop my face deeply to enjoy, tickle and am tickled,
breathe in the bouquet, delight in the sensations.
She has small, peach-pink rosebuds around back,
tightly closed, velvet soft, delicate, exquisite.
I luxuriate in the beauty.
“How did you get them to blossom all at once?”
“Gently, with love, and my green thumb,” she smiles.
I feel honored to be the one invited to visit her garden,
I take her hand, kiss her fingertips in tribute.

Her garden blooms with all manner of flowers,
I wander around her nude furrows.
The ancient Chinese depicted the vagina as a peony, and I know why,
as I bury my face in her pink petals, tickle and am tickled,
breathe in her bouquet, delight in the sensations.
She has a small, pink rosebud in the cleft of her peach around back,
tightly closed, velvet soft, delicate, exquisite,
I luxuriate in her beauty.
“How do you touch yourself? Show me…”
“Gently, with love, circling with fingertips and thumb,” she smiles.
Her skill is earthy and ethereal in what it can achieve.
I feel honored to be the one invited to visit her garden,
I take her hand, kiss those fingertips in tribute.

3 responses to “#197) Flowerchild”

  1. Happy Earth Day! I sometimes feel like I missed being who I really am at heart, a hippie. I wrote this even though I DO NOT have much of a green thumb. I really like working with parallel structure and non-genderized content. I hope you enjoy it!

    Liked by 2 people

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