Wordsmith

by Stacey
(New York)

I fell in love
with a word smith
so delectable
was his verbal intercourse
that I elevated into the universe
flying with his hand in mine
Held tightly in mine and mind to his

Flying across distant lands
Distant lands
Filled with floral scents
and melodies of romance

Into his words I submerge
like falling into a bed of airy feathers
I hang on every word

I fell in love with a wordsmith

caresses to the frontal
lobe that you cannot touch

So sweet are his words
like fresh sugar cane
and a warm breeze
while walking
on the sands
of a jet black beach

The word smith
so sure of himself
carves out
the angles
of my uterine wall
the sweetest smell
the aroma of chrysanthemums
on a warm and sunny day

Hmm
word smith
can you whisper
in my ear
in sweet intercourse