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Tuesday, March 26, 2013

French Dressing...



A poem

by Charles M Green

It's the gift wrap on the present,
the garnish on the plate,
It's the exotic spice for the sweet vice
you love to contemplate.

It's the bottle that contains the wine,
the veil that hides the face;
It's the fog that shrouds the valley
in a mist of sheerest lace.

It's the pleasure in the morning
that you savour in the night;
It's those slinky satin secrets
you keep hidden for delight.

It's the subtle flash of stocking top
held tight by garter strap;
It’s the slender strip of silk chemise
That baits the tender trap.

It's a way to tempt your lover
when you don't know what to say,
It’s all this whispered in one word;
that word is ...
lingerie.

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