Honey Drips 1986 Poem by Terry Collett

Holly lies
in the bed
it's Sunday

and no work
she says and
Geraldine

is down stairs
preparing
the breakfast

standing there
in her short
silk nightie

but when she
returns and
we have drunk
and eaten

our breakfast
we'll make love
once again

before we
go out to
eat our lunch

in that small
restaurant
sit outside

watching the
world go by
sipping wine

eating our
Spanish dish
but till then

it's breakfast
after that
we'll nibble

each other
kiss soft flesh
investigate

fish like clams
kiss soft lips
speak soft words

as the sex
honey drips.