She lays her radiant mane

Golden orange flames fanning 

A Delta of locks

Next to my pillow

Rosy budded Nipples 

Erect with pleasure

Poised for more

Blissful floods overtaking

Yet, she is dreaming. 

Pleasure predicted 

Remembered 

Waking in fields of poppies she grasps at their straws

Fingers caressing their morning dew

Ah, the famous field

Beyond ideas 

Beyond right and wrong

I see golden poppies

Shimmering amidst waves of wind

Oceanic thought landscapes

Her summer dress hiked up to her womanly hip

To feel riots of poppy hands massage 

Her thighs 

Mystery and mischief held in glimmering eyes

Spontaneous dance erupting from within

Playful creation itching to begin