Everyone seems to be writing amazing sensual poems this week. This is was an attempt at a sexy poem (not my usual genre). It was written many years ago after I attended an apple festival (of all things) just out of Melbourne. It was a fascinating event and very pleasant too.
Ah sweet caramello dude
come to me
with kisses
on this
rain grey afternoon.
Granny smiths glisten
globes of glow echoing
instruments magical
and spectacular.
Let this trumpet sing for you
mellow as warm
chocolate sauce.
Sunday.
It's jazz time, honey.
Like bees,
the sax croons
to produce this syrup
this sweet
floaty tongue-sticking stuff.
Cox's Orange Pippen.
Like the drums, man.
Like the drums
the rhythm beats in you
sexy boom smiley boom
marching man.
Hey soldier boy,
hold THIS rhythm
with your thumbs
between my
shoulder-blades
like wings of eagles
crack and soar
Golden Delicious.
Out of the Cave 
Sensuous use of the Apple names. A jazzy Sunday, indeed. Enjoyed the chocolate and caramel.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. 🙂
LikeLike
I like this: crisp and refreshing!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. 🙂 I have kept it all these years so I guess it’s good to feel my faith in it isn’t unfounded.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The swing in the words and form are mesmerizing here! Loved the Golden Delicious ending! 🍎
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
As sweet as apple pie! Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is a great poem. I don’t usually think of apples as a sensual food. I mean, I like them, but don’t think of them the way I think of rich chocolate, you know? But you gave me a new appreciation here!
LikeLiked by 1 person