Three Graces on a Raft

There were three graces on a raft
in a canyon moving past.
They were as naked as the breeze
and beautiful to heaven please.  

Gracefully one turns her back
for suntan lotion she does lack.
The other graceful, holds her firm --
spreads lotion on her epiderm.

The other grace stands by in turn
to be lotioned lest she burn.

She who lotions standing firm
guides her palm through every turn.
She looks a goddess in this task
with helm of Chestnut -- bush to match.

The grace who's turned shows heavenly ass.
The other, waiting, one to match.

Their breasts are orbs from heaven above
perfect instruments of love.

To make room for the lotion layer,
her being lotioned holds her hair.
With golden tresses in her hand
her arm is raised in gesture grand.

The other grace with sandy locks
stands out against the Canyon rock.
She applies what lotion she can
while waiting for another's hand.

She who lotions the other grace
may have been lotioned or she waits.

The gods above look down on this
spectacle of heavenly bliss.

A poet is watching from the shore
through the keyhole in heaven's door.
Can he turn the golden key
to help with lotioning all three?