Poet #5- Taste

SENSE: Taste

It sits before you in peaceful repose,
Skin darker than midnight on the prairie.
Its sinful delights I plan to expose,
This glistening temptress of a cherry.
Teeth tear flesh and release the blood-red flood,
Sweeter than a baby's very first smile.
Tongue graced by the beauty of a rose bud,
It is proper to linger here awhile.
Chew slowly to savor this tender fruit,
For a cherubic choir sings within.
Now let it pass lest it choose to take root;
I'll pick one more and once more we'll begin.

Alas such a gem was wasted on you -
You might as well have had a sweaty shoe.

The End

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