Taste honey form her rosy-red lips,
Win formulates in the valley below.
Drips of wine settle on her purplish-red lips,
As morning dew freshly hit by the sun.
Kiss each of the lips with the gentleness,
Of a mother and her babe.
In the distance see twin mountain peaks,
As Mount Everest in double vision.
Cherry colored peaks set on each mountain,
Crimson and hard as granite.
Emotions rage through my head, my heart,
As I touch her silken skin.
Names to call her roams through my mind,
Ecstasy...delight… lust…
One name fits what I feel in my heart,
And which she causes…Euphoria….Euphoria.
By: Robert Stockten
