She stood, bare bodied. on the bare floor board,    
gazing through the window onto my orchard.  
On bright Sunday afternoon, creation,  
in blossom flower form, was sensation.    
I gazed at the curves of calves, thighs, hips and ass,    
and her breasts' reflection in window's glass.    
Her loose long dark tresses, like waterfall,    
fell down the upper back of her bared all.    
I smiled on my Eve, who through flirtation    
and furtive talks on country walks I'd won,    
patient undressing of her rewarded    
by this sight so beautiful, not sordid.    
We heard the gentle cooing of the dove    
from a branch before we moved to make love,    
a scene more poignant when the bird's mate    
alighted on that branch - keeping their date?    
She looked round to my face, knowing eye glint,    
and her soulful smile was a burning hint    
of an enjoyment of forbidden fruit    
to come, when reduced to my birthday suit.    
I drew the curtains on the outside world    
then presented myself like flag unfurled;   
on second, empty chair my clothes did go,    
my work-hardened limbs and torso on show,
Written by Solomon_Song
Author's Note
Inspired by the lingering mental picture left by Nutbuster's 'Taking Off Angela Dickerson's Clothes'. and the Song of Solomon passage, 'the call of the turtle dove is heard in the land',
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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