Linger here persimmon… in fire dawn
for winter is coming much too soon
rest in cool arms of rich golden autumn
bask in the orange haze of harvest moon
when the leaves fall and leave mellow fruit
as you ripen in smoldering morning sun
in earnest you wait for your time to come
picked by loving hands, dessert to become.
Sweet fruit of the Gods on yearning lips
as we submit to our hot sinful pleasures
their honeyed essence.. perfume of pure bliss
juicy flesh of ginger ambrosia nectar
dripping, it slips down pale peach breasts
having found its euphoric place of rest.
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
Real Toads: A Rainbow of Sonnets