The Crimson Petal Poem by John Rickell

Six hours to dark and humid night
reach for the rose, soft and nectar laden
kiss her petals hear whispered promises
suck sweet, slow and buried deep, unfold
and dream of evening's silken robes.
Reluctant day retreats, evening breezes cool
the sweating brow, confirmed in the crystal pool.
evening and the moon is high.
Raise the glass and stay
close my love skin more soft than silk
Skin in love none more sweet
Let me taste and see
Oils of Arabi, Arcadian spices
opals waiting, pearls about your neck.
Night is young and so are we.
There is time..... time enough,
skin more soft than silk,
Your nectar shames the lily.

Is this a dream? If so I have no wish to wake,
the cushion of your thighs rests my brow,
breasts to quench, your hands to hold.
The crimson petal of the lake no match.
Take this night beneath the smiling moon
share this earthly gift
more worth than Heaven’s Gate.
I am your Hercules this night
Soon, too soon... but
there is time to wait.
Lie still, the tide is rising,
float upon the foaming waves,
hold your breath and me, we shall not drown
But tossed on the shore shall sleep,
Salt drying on skin more soft than silk.