By P.J. Murphy
Like fledgling flamingos we roll
blushing, giggling, playful.
Near-naked, clothes strewn anywhere
we play our new-love games.
Tawny limbs in impossible tangles,
rolling over obstacles unnoticed
as we traverse the coral seas
of the once pure woolen carpet -
- a cosy canvas for our abstract art.
Skins carnation-blush as rush of blood
Flushes to populate vessels of erogeneity
carmine lips nibble fleshy lobe
Laughter uncontrolled, unrestrained
cacophony as pink bodies squirm and writhe
presently laughing will subside
as Rosy Nature urges solemn lusty purpose
Lights go up.