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Monday, July 20, 2009

MORNING DEW

She took the rose
Gently pulling it across her face
Holding with extra care
Two, soft, wrinkled leaves

The smooth petals and aroma
Like a philter
Were the perfect aphrodisiac

As the flower began to bloom
Morning dew escaped
Dripping on her lips
As if to quench a parched tongue

MORNING DEW

1 comment:

gregfreed said...

sexy, very o'keefe. :)