Ambience Poem by Dennis Lange
Ambience
A bucket of color, a bucket of fruit;
A feast for the eyes, and healthy to boot.
And some dipped in cream look like mountains with snow;
They taste like a nectar that only gods know.
The lady beside me smells sweet of perfume;
I stroke her soft cheek as a song fills the room.
I say to myself as I'm falling for her,
My senses are simply five kittens that purr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 4:05:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
