A Taste of Honey

When I started writing this poem it was intended as a joke – a sort of ‘granny porn’ parody. When I finished it I realised I’d written a love song. I hope you interpret it that way too…

A Taste of Honey

If I had a detachable tongue
I would give it to you
And ask you to wear it as a panty liner.
I would spend all day nesting in your knickers
Drinking in the very essence of you
With every breath and every step you took.

I would tease you on the school run
Leaving you breathless and dumbstruck

While you waited with the other mums
At the school gates,
Your cheeks burning like those
Of a teething child.

 I would ravish you in Waitrose
As you looked for white wine.
You would bite your lip, moaning,
The bottle slipping from your hand,
Exploding on the floor,
Covering your bare legs with sticky foam.

When you cooked I would be stirring you
As you stirred the pot before you.

You would bubble over with excitement
The heat between your legs,
The fire in your belly,
Burning you up with desire and hunger.

When you stepped into your bath at the end of the day
You would be physically and emotionally spent

Your thighs aching, legs like rubber.
You would place me in a velvet-lined box by your bed
And I would sleep, at last,
Sated for now by the hours I spent possessing you

And quietly dreaming of the coming dawn.


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