As her garments nearly slipped away,
A curious tree outside
Tapped a branch on her windowpane
To glimpse what was inside.
On the hill sat a lecher,
Half-dressed in his easy chair,
Clutching his limbs as they quivered,
As gentle as they could bear.
Meanwhile, a faint beam of light
Trapped in the tree outside
Flitted from his lips
To her breast, like a fly on a flower.
She giggled with a soft, abrupt sound
That shattered into glittering shards,
As her feet slipped under her chemise
And she pleaded, “Please, stop it, Bard!”
Yet I laughed at her cries and moans,
Knowing she truly savored it,
And her eyes quivered beneath my lips,
Closing softly with each little bit.
As her head fell back, she exclaimed,
“Really, this is too much!”
But I silenced her with a kiss,
And she chuckled, wanting more such.
Her clothes were nearly all off,
While outside, the inquisitive tree
Rattled its branches against the pane
To glimpse the secrets it could see.
:: 04.26.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 