• Peach Cobbler

    Sweet syrupy sweet
    On my lips
    Flowing through every word
    You whisper to me.
    There is a sweetness in the air
    Blowing close
    Right by my mouth.
    It races over my tongue
    And I have not taken a bite.

    Peach cobbler should be made with the perfect peach.
    Light fuzz tickle on the skin
    On my skin
    Against yours

    She is my hot peaches.
    I want to bite
    and taste her sweet drip
    I'll wait for ripe
    For season
    The reason
    She asked
    Be slow
    Take time
    Don't rush
    It will be done
    Be steady
    When she is ready
    And when the moment cums
    The cobbler will drip drops of pure

    You can't rush a good cobbler
    All the ingredients
    Must match you
    Your taste
    Your appetite
    Your timing
    It must all work together
    But nothing in the perfect cobbler will be perfect without
    The perfectly sweet peach.

    - Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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