Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden fruit, the sweetest kind.
Ripe and succulent,
it shines with moonglow’s light.
Left, just hanging on the vine,
a hand-span’s length away
through yonder fence.
And the gate is hanging all ajar,
left open in a welcome gesture of appeal.

Tempting, temptress of a sensuous
and blind desire ever rising
to the fore of mind again,
and happiness is lingering,
just waiting for a chance to sing
through juices that enticingly
swell the skin close to a bursting point.

When alas, a light, a flick of switch;
and the hand that had just touched its fruit
was taken back again.
Dimly lit, they never saw
the bulge within his pocket.

A startling night of starlight sang,
beckoning and then revealing
another chance of reckless
rendezvous -
with this, the lost, forbidden fruit,
he gained...

? Michaelette ?

4/7/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...