The moistness of summer returned silently slipping into the stary night, a quiet lover entering your bedroom intent upon desires sweet errands, longing to warm your aching loins with my warm and fragrant breath sweet mother night dances, over us supple limbs stepping light as a feather arching so high over the distant horizon an anklet flashes, our eyes are bedazzled bejeweled with the light of distant suns her toe points down, then gently kisses the soft lips of the slumbering earth thunder rolls with each dainty footstep we harmonize the whirring night chorus with our moans and sighs, in music so rare the air is heavy, and thick as wild honey the scent of poppies, red and soothing... lays so rich and sweet upon my tongue.. warm and moist, as the body of your lover pressed close to your fever-flushed skin
W. I. Boucher December 25, 2002