An afternoon:-

Warmth of the January sun and its cool afternoon breeze,

Leading to a safe haven of pleasure

Just in the right measure

Sans a rigorous usher

Mutual adulation, adoration

A certain innocuous indulgence

A feel of the ‘real’, peeling off the virtual wall...

An unostentatious sensory feast

That is to say the least

Putting a rest to some beastly passion

Love, with pure compassion...

Oodles of creativity,

Doled out with some mundane this and that,

Latently blending with the afternoon warmth,

Fullness leading to some bareness

With just the watch, silently keeping time!

Up so close, with the sound of breath

Smell of some familiar watery perfume

Permeating around the bareness,

Ensued by some gentle smiles of acknowledgement

And careless whispers of merriment...

Writers, wordsmiths in their own right

Accepting one another without a blight

An uninhibited zone of comforting PEACE...

But hey, do the WORDS get transmitted too in the process?

Oh yeah, bequeath it does some racy, passionate knowledge,

Etched in the mind it shall remain ALWAYS!