Tuscan Morn

Rating: 4.8

You are some lush Italian vineyard
Into which I have stolen,
So juicy, glistening, swollen ripe
That I can not resist
Plucking a taste
Filling my mouth with the wet, sticky sweetness
‘Til it runs down my chin and neck,
Like a rushing stream
Into the valley beneath my blouse

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM